Ad Finem
by lamelessness
Summary: Latin for "to the end". "A doppleganger," Caius sneers. "What will you do with her?" "She'll be my wife, again," Marcus proclaims. 25 years after BD, one girl could be the Volturi's downfall. Love will save some, love will destroy some. A good old revenge fic.
1. P1, Ch1: Meeting (Demi1)

AD FINEM

Summary: Latin for "to the end". "A doppleganger," Caius sneers. "What will you do with her?" "She'll be my wife, again." Marcus proclaims. 25 years after BD, one girl could be the Volturi's downfall. Love will save some, love will destroy some. A good old revenge fic.

 **Author's Notes/All Disclaimers** :

 **WARNINGS:** This story includes mentions/implications/descriptions of: rape, mass murder, domestic violence, and consensual sex. Story also has cursing, character death, and criticisms of religion. If such topics offend or trigger you, please do not read or read with caution. There will not be warnings inside the chapter of when these topics come up.

Disclaimer: I am not Stephanie Meyer and don't own Twilight. Duh.

Changes from the book: I have taken several liberties with the characteristics of the characters and the biology of vampires. For instance, vampires do not have uncontrollable blood lust anytime they see or smell blood. After the first year, control becomes much easier and vampires can even take hours to drain a kill (if they wish). Also, I've decided not to make older vampires like Aro and the Volturi as weak and mummified as the books suggested. In my world, they are just as active and have the same traits (perfect skin, inhumanly beautiful) as younger vampires. Another example is the fact that sleeping with human girls is not, nor was it ever, considered deviant by vampires. But it is still strange to form a romantic relationship with one. Other changes have been made, but they should all be explained (or at least mentioned) in the story.

Updates: I have no promise on when I will update. I will try to do so semi-regularly and I promise to eventually finish this. Please do review; I hope to either be able to answer questions or tease the reviewer with hints about the next chapter. I also don't have a Beta or an editor, so I apologize for any typos that I missed.

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 **"** _ **We are not Challenging the Volturi."**_ –– Carlisle Cullen, Olympia Coven, Breaking Dawn, page 626

" _**If there is any chance [the Vulturi] will fail, we will be here to see it."**_ –– Stefan, Romanian Coven, Breaking Dawn, page 626

" _ **It's time our world saw the Volturi for what they've become. They'll never fall if everyone believes this nonsense about them protecting our way of life."**_ –– Stefan, Romanian Coven, Breaking Dawn, page 658

" _ **If we can just cripple them, even, expose them…."**_ –– Stefan, Romanian Coven, Breaking Dawn, page 659

" _ **We believe the Volturi will overstep their authority. We have no wish to belong to them."**_ –– Tia, Egyptian Coven, Breaking Dawn, page 659

" _ **This won't be the first time I fought to keep myself from a king's rule. Here's to freedom from oppression."**_ –– Garret, Nomad, Breaking Dawn, page 659

" _ **These ancients ones did not come here for justice as they told you…. The Volturi come to erase what they perceive as the competition…. Are the Volturi here to protect the safety of our secrecy, or to protect their own power?... Their guard is just a mindless weapon, a tool in their masters' quest for domination…. Are you free to choose your path, or will the Volturi decide how you will live?... They seek death or our free will… Perhaps the Volturi have finally met their match…."**_ Garrett, Nomad, Breaking Dawn, page 717-719

" _ **Revolutionary? Who am I revolting against, might I ask? Are you my king? Do you wish me to call you master, too, like your sycophantic guard?"**_ -Garrett, Nomad, Breaking Dawn, page 719.

" _ **The Volturi won't forgive what happened here."**_ –– Siobhan, Irish Coven, Breaking Dawn, page 743

" _ **Perhaps the time will come when our world is ready to be free of the Volturi altogether."**_ –– Siobhan, Irish Coven, Breaking Dawn, page 743

The time has come.

* * *

 **Part One, Chapter One: Meeting (Demi1)**

 **P1. Ch1: Meeting (Demi1)**

* * *

" _Signorina?"_

Demi looks up from her book. Several feet in front of her, standing shoulder to shoulder and wearing crisp, blue suits, are two men. The one on the left is taller and slimmer than his short and round partner on the right.

Demi regards them for a moment, inspecting their blue uniforms decorated with medals and symbols; _they must be dying in those stuffy suits in this August heat_!

" _Polizia_."

"Oh." Demi furrows her eyebrows. _What do they want with me?_

Perhaps it is the late hour of the night (or early hour of the morning) that make them question her; it is well past 1 A.M., and she's the last person sitting around the grand fountain in the middle of the town square.

She hadn't even noticed that it had become so late. There are a string of lights around the bench she is sitting on, and the moon is full and bright above her, giving her plenty of light to read the book she had picked up at a small bookstore in town earlier that afternoon. Demi had felt safe—still _feels_ safe—sitting on a bench in a foreign city late into the warm, summer night, as Volterra is known for its lack of crime.

 _That's what they'll tell me_ , she thinks; _It's past curfew, although none of my guide books ever mentioned such a restriction._

" _Sì?_ " she asks hesitantly. Demi knows about as much Italian as the average American, that is, absolutely none. The portly policeman shifts from side to side, as if nervous.

" _La prego quindi di venire con noi, signorina?_ Come with us?" The tall one asks first in fast Italian, but adds the English quickly after. He extends a hand to her and Demi stares at the duo for a few moments.

She does not doubt their position as real Volterra officers; the city emblem is displayed proudly in the center of their uniforms, and tasers are mounted firmly on each policeman's hip. Demi doesn't see any guns, but then again: _why would they need one?_ Volterra consistently gets awards for low crime rate and safety. _These men don't see much action_.

"Oh, uhh…sure. _Sì_." Demi does not pause to consider where they might be taking her. She doesn't want to make any trouble. Both her father and his father before him were cops, and Demi not only respects police officers, she trusts them without question.

Demi quickly stuffs her book into her large tote bag and takes the hand. Just as she is about to pull the bag over her shoulder, the short one grabs on to it and offers to carry it for her. She smiles appreciatively at him and allows him to place her in between himself and his partner. The tall one's hand is clammy and uncomfortable. His sweat sticks against her palm. She wiggles her fingers, trying to pull them out, but he holds them tightly.

"Umm…" she hedges as they start walking away from the town center, "where…" She struggles to think of words in Italian, but the tall one saves her.

" _La stazione. Va bene, signorina."_ He responds kindly as they quickly lead her through the streets. _La stazione_ , Demi mulls over his words, _even I can understand that._

The farther the trio travel from the square, the darker it gets. Without her guidebook open or any light, Demi is soon completely lost. The men say they are taking her to the police station, but after ten minutes of silence, they stand in front of the castle gates instead.

Demi had seen the castle earlier that day when she was roaming around the streets. According to her tour book, _Castello Volterra_ began construction in the year 900 B.C, but it took centuries before it's final and current form would be completed. The castle was what the City of Volterra was built around, as the grand structure compelled farmers to move closer to its safe walls, and as the years passed, the city grew and the walls expanded to its current size. While Volterra as a city might still be relatively small and unknown, the castle has a long and proud history.

It looks old only in its architecture and grandeur, as it is in surprisingly good condition. Demi's guidebook mentioned that the castle has gone through multiple renovations and expansions from the original structure, but even the newest additions are still hundreds of years old.

The tour book also said it is privately owned, and while no one currently resides in the castle, the owners open it up to specific tour groups upon request. In fact, Demi had seen one of those groups walk through the gates earlier today. The castle is magnificent to look at from the outside alone, and Demi had wondered how the inside compared. Apparently, the castle brought in a lot of the tourism Volterra thrived on.

There are some light posts placed along the sidewalk, but they barely illuminate the space around them, and shed no light on the inner courtyard somewhat visible behind the thick iron bars of the fence and the tall steel gate that stops anyone from entering the castle's grounds.

Demi looks around but sees no other buildings nearby, and definitely no police stations. Warning bells go off in her head. " _La stazione polizia?_ " She questions. Suddenly, the gates begin to slowly creak open, as if someone heard her question.

" _Sì, la stazione._ " The tall man tries to comfort her but she doesn't believe him. Panic takes hold of her and she once again tries to pull her hand out of his grip, but they are so close to the open gates that it does her little good.

Together, the two policemen shove her through the small opening and quickly follow after her. As soon as they are past the big black gates and into the small courtyard, the gates slam shut. The noise causes the men to whip around in fear and Demi does the same, her back now toward the castle.

Two men stand on either side of the closed gates, almost completely covered in blackness. It's even darker here with the castle's shadow casting along the courtyard, and the weak light of the lamp posts are completely shut out by the fence and gate. But from what Demi can tell from their outline, the two men are much bigger than the policemen who escorted her here. As the men step forward, and her eyes adjust to the lack of light, Demi lets out a frightened gasp.

One man is absolutely huge. He must be closer to seven feet than to six feet, and he completely towers over her, the policemen, and even his partner. And the last point is a true testament to his size, as his friend is by no stretch of the imagination small. Built more slim and lean than like the bodybuilder to his right, the other man is tall and broad in the shoulders as well. Both men are wearing black coats and black gloves which contrast with their pale skin. In fact, their faces are the only part of their skin visible, and they are so pale they seem to glow in the darkness.

The policemen are backing away from Demi as the new men advance forward. Demi hears, rather than sees, the short policeman drop her bag on the cobblestone.

Demi can't take her eyes of off the new men's faces long enough to run. It's very dark outside, in the shadow of the castle, but she can make out their chiseled features and their eyes…they are vivid and bright. They glow in the night and almost seem… _red?_

"We bring you her." The tall policeman stumbles out from behind Demi. His voice is small and cracks on the last word out of fright, nothing like the commanding tone he used to lure Demi towards the castle. His English is broken and his accent makes it almost impossible to understand his words. Demi herself can barely hear him but the new men seem to have no trouble.

"Yes, I can see that," the smaller of the men says, condescendingly. His friend smirks beside him. It's at this moment that Demi falls out of her calm and silent state.

"What's going on?" She finally cries out.

The new men are closing in fast and her legs feel like lead. By the time she realizes she needs to run, it is too late. A hand shoots out and as the glove tightens around her arm she hears the sound of leather creaking. Demi flinches in alarm, jerking away desperately. But it's the big man that holds her tightly, and she knows there is no way she'll be able to wiggle out of his grasp. She opens her mouth to scream when another big, black-leathered hand clamps itself over her mouth. She struggles earnestly against the man but he is not fazed at all.

"Take care of them," the man commands his smaller partner.

Although there is no verbal reply, as the man drags Demi closer to the castle, she turns her head back in time to see _and_ hear the smaller man snap the fat policeman's neck.

Demi has never understood the saying 'blood turns cold', until this exact moment. Her stomach drops, and it feels like someone is injecting ice water into her veins. She can feel the adrenaline kicking in full force, and she twists and bucks in the man's hold. Terror grips her around her throat, and her legs feel both light and heavy at the same time. Tingles shoot down her spine and her heart hammers in her chest, filling her ears with the sound of its frantic beating.

 _Oh. My. God_. Behind the hand, she screams and she does not stop. Even as she morbidly watches the smaller man stalk the tall policeman, she does not stop her screams. They all come out muffled and she—strangely removed from her situation—bets that they don't reach anything beyond the steel gates of the courtyard.

She turns her head away before she can see the actual murder, but nothing, not even her screams, can block out the echoes of a neck snapping and a dead body sagging against the ground.

 _These men are murders. I'm going to die. They're going to kill me. Oh my God._

She is sobbing hysterically now, and she wiggles as much as she can in the giant's arms. She swears she can still hear the crunch of bones. The echoic trace still rings in her ears and she can't escape it.

Demi digs her heels into the ground, squeezes her eyes shut and desperately prays to whatever mystic figure is up in the sky to save her. When she opens her eyes again, her situation has not changed in the slightest, except that now she and her captor have reached the doors to the castle.

They are large, metal black doors that stretch insanely high and impressively wide. The man holding her bangs twice and the sound vibrates in the open air of the courtyard. Instead of overcoming the sound of the neck breaking, it serves to strengthen the echo in her mind and she is so convinced that the sound is real—that someone's neck is being snapped right now—that she looks behind her.

But instead of seeing the smaller partner murdering another person, she sees him dragging the two policemen's corpses, face-down across the stone of the courtyard. This image is almost as horrific as their deaths. She can't see their lifeless faces— _thank God_ —but she can just make out the twisted angle of their necks. _And what's that? Could that be their—NO! Oh God, it is! It's the bone! Holy shit!_

As she watches him close the distance between himself and his partner, he pauses next to Demi's discarded large, shoulder bag. He bends his knees and, still grasping the tall one's ankle in his right hand, curls his finger-tips around the bag's strap, balancing it on the pads of his fingers as he advances.

Demi turns back to face the imposing doors of the castle. She has stopped screaming, but her cries are no less violent.

 _What do they want with me? What are they going to do? They're going to kill me. I'm going to die._ And then Demi conjures the image of her mother's tear-stained face. _Worse,_ she thinks. _They're going to rape me. They're going to sell me into sex slavery_.

If possible, her panic increases. Her mother had always been very open to Demi about the horrors she had faced. Demi no longer remembers the first time her mother told her the story, but she grew up always knowing her mother had been rapped while in college, just as surely as she knew the sky was blue. Her entire life, her mother had instilled in her the dangers that are present in the world for women. Her mother had instilled in Demi a sense of fear, especially of men, and especially of rape. Hearing her mother's story, it was inevitable that Demi would fear rape even more than death. The idea of not being in control of one's body, of not having say in who can touch it and who cannot…to Demi it is one of the cruelest things a human can do to another.

And Deborah Harris had made it her life's mission to make sure her daughter never experienced what she had. Her mother put her in self defense classes starting at age eight, her mother taught her how to constantly be aware of her surroundings, her mother spent hours teaching Demi how to protect herself at parties and in parking lots and when walking home.

And Demi had suddenly forgotten it all. She had let herself be lured away, let herself be crippled with fear.

Demi thinks about her parents. She can picture it so clearly in her head: they would start worrying when she doesn't answer their phone calls, but they would give her a few days before they file the missing person's report. She can see them sitting together in the family room, holding each other and sobbing as they come to terms with her disappearance. She can see their marriage begin to crack as they both struggle to accept the fact that they will never see her again and that they will most likely never know what happened to her. And Demi can picture her mother crumbling under the loss. Demi's disappearance would make her mother imagine the worst, would make her relive her own sexual assault.

So Demi makes a silent promise to herself to survive, no matter what. No matter what they do, or make her do, she _will_ survive. Because her survival means the survival of her family, and she will do anything to assure this. _They need me to survive. I have to survive, not just for myself, but for them._

Demi settles on all of this in the seconds before the door opens. The murderous man still grips each policeman by one of their ankles, and has now caught up to his bigger partner and Demi.

Finally, one of the doors opens and an elderly man, dressed in jeans and a long sleeved black shirt, stands in the door frame. He does not wear gloves or a cloak like the other men, nor does he have red eyes or unnaturally pale skin.

When he sees the men, he smiles and greets them fondly. "Sirs," he says, and pulls the door open wider, stepping out of the way. He does not comment on, nor seem upset by, Demi or the two dead Volterra policemen.

Inside the castle, a blast of cold hits Demi's face. They are in a long and narrow corridor, with stone beneath their feet and along the walls. The hallway is more of a tunnel; the path is not very wide and the ceiling is low. There are no windows, and small lamps mounted along the walls provide the only light. A few feet to the right of the door, in the corner of the tunnel is a desk with a small lamp turned on and some papers scattered along the surface.

Once the doors shut, the giant man lets go of Demi and she immediately backs away from him and into the wall. He pays her little mind as he watches his friend drop the dead bodies on the ground in front of the elderly man. He also shoves Demi's bag into the older man, and the elder takes it with a small bow of his head. Demi watches as he places it by the empty desk.

Demi can make out little of the old man in the light, besides the fact that he reminds her of her late grandfather—the same one who was a cop for over 30 years. Demi eyes shift from him towards the long corridor in front of her. She doesn't think much about the logistics or consequences of what she is planning; she is only concerned with escaping, and she (foolishly) believes she has just found a way out.

"Charles," the smaller man greets the elderly man, "Dispose of these, would you?"

"Yes, Sir. Is there anything else you will be needing from me tonight?" He asks.

Demi sees her chance and she takes it. She starts off towards the hallway, sprinting with all her might. But she's barely five feet into her escape when she feels a harsh tug on her hair. She cries, stumbles, and falls down. She's picked back up by the cruel grip on her hair, and through her tears she sees it's the smaller man—the man who murdered the policemen—who has her.

He stares down at her with a frown. "Now, now. Where do you think you're going?" His taunt renews her sobs and he lets go of her hair in favor of her arm.

He turns back to the elderly man and the giant, the latter still standing beside the corpses with a threatening smile on his face. In the new light, Demi can see now that the cloaks worn by the men, which she originally thought to be black, are actually dark gray.

"I'm sorry about that, Charles," the man holding Demi says, shaking his head disapprovingly like Demi is a disobedient child interrupting a 'grown-ups-only' conversation. "No," he replies. "I will not require any more of your services. If you will excuse us, we are under orders from Master Marcus to return to him as soon as possible."

The big man begins to walk towards them and his red eyes stay focused on Demi. _Contacts_ , she thinks. _They have to be contacts. Have to. No human can have those eyes._

"Of course. Have a nice night, gentlemen!" Charles responds as the men walk Demi further down the hall she had just been using to attempt escape. Demi turns her head one last time to see Charles on his knees in front of the bodies, making a cross in the air.

She turns back around and finds her voice. "Let go of me!" She demands of the smaller man, grabbing his hand with her free one and trying to pull his fingers off. They do not bulge, and he allows her to keep trying as he continues to pull her.

"Let go of me!" She screams again, her voice cracking as her emotions overwhelm her once again. She hasn't stopped crying since the courtyard, and she knows that if she is to survive and escape, she needs to be stronger. But it feels almost impossible to stop her tears.

" _Stai zitto!"_ The man scolds her, glancing down once. His fingers curl even more tightly around her arm, overlapping. It hurts and Demi can already feel the bruises forming underneath his hand.

She swings up her free hand and scratches at the man's face with an enraged scream. "Let me go!" Her nails rake harmlessly along his face, although the sound is like nails on a chalkboard. His cheek is cold and hard. The man does not flinch, or show that it affects him at all. It does more damage to Demi; when she pulls her hand back, several of her nails are broken and she cries out in pain.

The man growls again, and decides he has had enough. Clamping his hand back down on her mouth, he leans in close. "Foolish girl," he hisses. His breath is cool and washes over Demi's face. Her shivers intensify.

The bigger man, chuckling at the small scuffle, follows closely behind them as the small man pushes Demi forward through the corridor, one hand on her arm holding her close, and the other over her mouth. The walk is relatively short and they reach the end of the hall quickly. There's nothing but an elevator door. Obviously, even if she had gotten farther, this hallway would not have helped her escape.

The elevator has two options, up or down, and the giant presses 'up'.

Almost immediately, the elevator _pings_ and the doors open. Both men move in, the smaller one pulling Demi along with him and keeping her tethered to his side. The elevator is very large, reminding her of the ones at Ikea; these were made to be used by big groups of people. Demi briefly remembers the large tour group she saw enter the castle earlier today.

The elevator offers six levels: 3, 2, 1, L, R, D. The large man presses the button labeled '2'. While the elevator is spacious, it is also old. It creaks and shudders, and is extremely slow.

They move up two levels and then the elevators open and she is back in medieval times. Light is once again scarce and provided only by small lamps spaced every several feet along the wall. But this time, the ceiling is high and large paintings hang along the wall. Instead of cold stone, a velvet red carpet lies beneath Demi's shoes.

Somewhat calmer, Demi continues to be pulled down the hall by the smaller man, although he does finally remove his hand covering her mouth. She doesn't attempt to scream or plead for help, doubting that it will help her now. Instead, she focuses on her surroundings, trying to remember how many turns, corners, and twists she goes around. But it soon proves useless; the hallway is awe inspiringly large and intricate.

She estimates they walk for at least a minute or two before stopping in front of an unremarkable door. It's only then that Demi finally realizes how tired she is. It feels like it has been hours since the policemen had come to get her, but it couldn't have been more than twenty minutes. So much has happened so fast, and Demi has not had time to process it all yet. Part of Demi's mind is still in the courtyard, trying to come to terms with witnessing the murder of two (albeit, morally questionable) men.

Before the big man can knock on the door, it opens and a new man stands in the door frame. Demi stands behind her two captors, and the man is several inches shorter than her captors, thus she can't make out anything about him.

"You took too long," he growls—yes, _growls_ —out, opening the door and stepping aside. The men walk in. Demi is only a step through the threshold when she's ripped from her captor's hold and brought into new arms.

They are frighteningly cold (even colder than the other men's) as they wrap completely around her frame. One drapes across her waist, the other across her shoulders, and they press her head into a broad chest. A face is buried in her neck and the man is _sniffing,_ _smelling_ , _inhaling_ , her over and over again.

The act is surprisingly intimate and sensual, as the strange man's nose runs across Demi's exposed neck, collarbone, and even down her cleavage. The man is moaning, groaning, and Demi blushes deeply, her throat burning in humiliation. She can feel the eyes of the other men on her, standing by silently as she is assaulted by the new, unknown man. Demi stands helplessly in his arms, revolted. She feels violated in a way she never thought possible and she now questions how she'll be able to survive being a sex slave if she can barely stand a man smelling her.

Demi pushes against the man's chest, channeling all of her humiliation, embarrassment and anger into a strong shove. But no matter how hard she pushes, the man doesn't move, not even an inch. His body is rock hard and she can feel the cold stone, even through the material covering his body (a true, deep black cloak, similar to the ones the others wore, but much more luxurious).

"Oh, Didyme," he whispers. They are the first words he has spoken to her. His breath is cool and his voice, _oh!_ His voice sends a shiver down her spine. His voice is rough, deep, and… _erotic_. She blushes against his chest as she realizes that his voice turns her on. The voice of her captor— _my captor!_ —is single handedly the sexiest voice she has ever heard in her life. _Like velvet fucking sex._

There is a certain quality to it…it's gravel-ly and deep, while at the same time soft and soothing. And he has an accent; it's light but consistent, and Demi cannot place it. Perhaps British, but maybe Italian? With hints of Eastern Europe? She's never had an ear for accents, and this man seems to be constantly fluctuating between several distinct ones.

"How I've missed you." _What the hell does that mean?_

As if Demi does not already hate the man for holding her to him and inhaling her with an inappropriate intimacy, she now resents him for the power his voice has over her body. _Dear god, I need to get away from this man_.

"Let go of me!" She's a broken record, repeating the same weak cry for power. It's muffled by the satin cloth wrapped around the man so she tries again. "I'm not Didyme! Let go!" She screams as loud as possible. Her voice cracks near the end and she begins to sob, clutching the man to hold herself up.

"Master," a voice says from somewhere beside them. Even blinded, she recognizes the voice of the smaller man. Demi continues to clutch the man's clothing, while at the same time trying to push away from him.

"What?" This voice belongs to the man holding her, and his chest rumbles with authority. It sends shock waves through her body, and she swears she can feel the vibrations all the way to her bones.

"Master…" There is a long pause. "Shall I bring the others?" he finally asks. And then the man pulls away from her and Demi gasps for fresh air. She leans as far away from him as she can.

"Oh, yes. Fetch my brothers, this is something they have to see." Once again, the man's chest rumbles with his command and Demi's breath is taken away with the inhuman quality of his voice.

"Yes, Master." The men exist, closing the door behind them. Demi begins to struggle again.

She twists and turns in the man's grasp, but she cannot escape his large arms. "Calm down, _mio caro_ ," the man purrs into her ear. He nuzzles his smooth shaven cheek against hers and inhales her scent again. Tears fall freely from her eyes and upon his clothes, wetting them.

"Please," she whispers, ashamed of how petrified she is. Her early promises of being strong and not crying are forgotten. "Oh, god, please!" She pleads.

The man shoos her and Demi cranes her head up to look upon his face for the first time.

He has short, brown hair that is unruly and messy. His face is so pale he looks albino, and his jaw is sharp. His cheekbones are high, his nose straight and his features perfectly chiseled. His skin is young and blemish free, stretched tightly over his bones and not a single wrinkle to be seen. It is all so perfect and angelic, like a painting by Michelangelo on the Sistine Chapel. Eyebrows, dark and neatly trimmed, frame eyes with long lashes. Everything on his face is smooth and new and _so_ beautiful, except for his eyes. They are a vivid and loud bright blood red, and they turn his angelic face into that of a monster's, but a devastatingly _hot_ monster.

The man smiles down at her as if he can sense her attraction to him. His teeth are perfect and blindingly white. It is the most threatening smile Demi has ever seen in her life. If it is meant to comfort her, it does the exact opposite, and the hairs all over her body stand up. She begins to tremble.

The man dips his head down to her neck, breathing in deeply. Demi tries to control herself by breathing in deep as well. She has regained some of her composure and is singing a mantra in her head: ' _Do not breakdown. Stay alert. Survive. Do not breakdown. Stay alert. Survive.'_

Demi closes her eyes and breathes in deeply. As he smells her, she smells him. His scent is dark and sweet. It reminds her of something she would buy at Bath and Body Works. He has hints of leather, raspberry and the scent of a newly opened magazine around him. _It suits him_ , she thinks, although she knows nothing about him.

"Oh, how I have missed you." Demi does not respond. She is confused by his words. They have never met before, yet this man greets her, holds her, _smells_ her like they are old lovers.

She remembers the way he caressed the name 'Didyme'. _He thinks that I'm someone else._

And the sudden realization gives her hope. Perhaps she was not brought here to be a sex slave, and if she can convince this man of his mistake, perhaps she can leave.

Her tears keep coming, but she no longer feels like throwing up. All she has to do is get this man to realize she is not this 'Didyme', not the girl he thinks she is. She pushes against his chest, not very hard, but hard enough to let him know she wants to be free of his arms. Surprisingly, he lets go of her.

Before she can begin to scan her eyes around the room and figure out where she is, her eyes meet his. At first, her gaze is hard as she glares at him, but then his red eyes entrance her. They're unnatural and new. And, as much as she does not understand it, she needs to know more about them, about _him_.

The emotions inside of her conflict with each other. She does not like this man, and wants to get as far as possible from him as she can, but at the same time he is something new and strange. Curiosity has always been one of Demi's greatest weaknesses, and she can feel it now creeping up on her. She needs to know what this man _thinks_ he knows, she needs to find out why he looks so triumphant and happy when staring at her. And she also needs to know how to get the hell away from him.

Suddenly, the door behind her opens and the tension between the man and her breaks. She blinks, and turns her body to look at the door, and hopefully make a run for it, when suddenly, instead of seeing the door, she sees the man's back. For a moment, she thinks she teleported behind the man, as she has no memory of actually moving back here. The man is again holding her, his hands reaching behind his back to grasp onto both of Demi's small wrists.

"Marcus," a voice drawls out from in front of her. She can't see around the man's—Marcus'—big frame. "What do you want?"

"Brothers," he says. His voice once again shocks Demi to the core. It is not a voice someone would expect from a man of his size, but it fits his (almost) angelic face. "A miracle has occurred." Two sets of footsteps echo on the floor as a pair of men walk forward into the room.

"Please," a new, more nasally, voice scuffs. "Don't start with that again. Talk plainly and tell me why you dragged me away from my wife." There is a chuckle, presumably from the first man who talked. It has the same, buttery light tone.

"Oh, and what's this?" the light voice asks. There's a pause and a sniff. "A heartbeat? Marcus, what have you got behind your back, brother?" Marcus' hands tighten around Demi's wrists, hesitating for a second, before jerking her forward. Demi squeals and stumbles, and then looks up.

There are two men in front of her, standing just inside the door. There is also a small, mousey woman standing a foot behind the men, still out in the hallway. She is so small, and almost completely hidden behind the men, that Demi would not have seen her, if the woman hadn't peered around the men for a second to glance at Demi. But she soon disappears behind the men and they regrab Demi's attention.

One of the men is taller than the other but still shorter than Marcus. He has long dirty blond hair pulled back into a short ponytail, but a few curly strands have escaped the hold and frame his face. He is wearing a black robe that covers all of his body except his hands, face and feet (which are bare). He's pale and shares the same red eyes that everyone here seems to have. His nose is a small nub, and he looks a little younger than Marcus with boyish features. His eyebrows are blond and not as thick as Marcus', but he's just as inhumanly good looking.

The smallest one, who is only an inch or two taller than Demi, has the longest hair of the three and it's black. It brushes against his shoulder blades. He wears a full black suit that, while tailored to fit him perfectly, is only buttoned up halfway, exposing the upper part of his chest. He looks more like the blond one than Marcus, but is paler than both, although that might just be the contrast of his black hair. His eyes are a duller red. He is more unsettling and older looking than the others, and while he is not ugly, he is not nearly as stunning as Marcus (or the blonde one for that matter).

All three of the men scream power. They hold a regal stance, with their heads high and their shoulders straight. Even the blonde, without shoes on, commands respect. And together, the three of them are the most intimidating thing Demi has ever seen.

The men are shocked when Demi is revealed to them. They disappear from where they stand several feet from her, and then suddenly reappear less than a foot away. Demi gasps and flinches back but is trapped against Marcus.

The man with the black hair takes the last step towards her so that their shoes touch each other. Over the man's shoulder, Demi can see the blonde one, eyes wide, staring at her intently, and that the mousey woman has moved forward to stand beside the blonde. Her hand reaches out so that her finger-tips lightly brush against the black haired man's shoulder. He jerks his shoulder out of her touch.

"Leave us, Renata," he commands. Renata's eyes flash around the room, as if they are looking for something. She begins to shake.

"Master," she whines out desperately, eyeing Demi.

"Now!" The man bites back aggressively, never taking his eyes off Demi. She can feel his cool breath against her face. Renata makes a strangled sound of annoyance but turns sharply on her heel and storms out of the room, slamming the door shut.

Slowly, the man brings his hands up towards Demi and she turns her head from him, pushing further into Marcus' chest, but she cannot escape him. He gently catches Demi's chin, and brings her back to face him, softly cradling her face with his hands. His jaw is slack as he gapes at her.

"Didyme?" he whispers. She meets his awed eyes with a hard glare. There's that name again; _Didyme_. "Oh, Didyme." This man mistakes her for the same woman that Marcus mistakes her for. And slowly, her hope at being released once they realize their mistake is shrinking away. How much likeness could she and this Didyme really share?

And then the man, cradling her face and looking upon her with the softest of expressions, does something shocking to Demi. He falls to his knees in front of her, his hands leaving her face to caress down the sides of her body. They leave a trail of goosebumps as his cold fingers dance across her skin from her shoulders all the way down to her ankles. She gasps again but is frozen in place by the hard look upon the blonde's face, standing right behind the kneeling man.

The black haired man leans forward and places kisses on top of Demi's dirty and cheap boots. _What the hell is going on?_ "Didyme, my sweet sister. How I have missed you," he mutters softly.

"It's amazing, is it not?" Marcus asks from behind her, his voice still sending a shock of thrill down Demi's spine. His arms are wrapped tightly around Demi's waist, keeping her still as the men talk over her.

"She is human," the blonde answers in disbelief. His red eyes scrutinize Demi for a moment, turning more hostile with every second. "A doppleganger." His eyes turn hard suddenly as he looks towards Marcus. Demi's head spins with all the implications of his words. "How?" He hisses out in anger.

"I do not know, brother," Marcus says simply. "That is why I claim a miracle." The blonde one scuffs, rolls his eyes and turns them on the man still kneeling in front of Demi.

"Get up, damn it!" He snaps at the man. The man responds instantly to the command, jumping to his feet so quickly and so gracefully it causes all the air to rush out of Demi's lungs. _Unbelievable._ The man seems completely recovered from whatever mental breakdown he just experienced, his eyes bright as they rest on Demi.

"She does not remember us?" He questions Marcus. His voice, while beautiful and haunting, is much lighter and softer than Marcus' and does not have the same arousing effect on her. Behind her, Marcus lets out an exaggerated sigh.

"It would appear not."

Demi wants to shout at them all. _Of course I do not remember you! You have the wrong girl!_ But as the man's red eyes come back to her, she is pinned down by fear.

There's a pause. "Do you mind?" The black haired man is looking at her, but it's only when Marcus nods his head that the man reaches out and grasps her hands. As soon as her palm touches his, pictures—dozens, hundreds, thousands—flutter around in her mind and Demi attempts to pull away from him with a gasp. But the man has her hands tightly secured in his.

"What—what are you doing?" she cries as the images continue. They appear then disappear quickly, leaving Demi no time to try and figure out what they are. The only things she can discern from the mental pictures are flashes of color; green, red, white, black.

Just as suddenly as they started, the images stop, and the man is smiling as he lets go of Demi's hands. Demi wraps her arms around herself and shivers. Marcus still keeps a tight hold of her shoulders.

"Oh, Marcus," he says with a sigh and a soft laugh. "I find evidence to support your claim." Marcus' fingers squeeze her shoulders gently.

"What did you see?" Marcus asks excitedly.

"Her name is Demi." Marcus and Demi gasp at the same time, although for different reasons. _How the hell does he know my name?_ Demi fumes. _What the hell is going on here? Who are these people?_

"Well then," the blonde one mutters.

"I know!" The black haired man exclaims in glee. "While she may yet be aware of it, it is clear that she is indeed meant for our brother. A gift from the gods, or perhaps Didyme herself sent her for you, Marcus." No response from behind her. His fingers are still tightly clenched onto Demi's shoulders, and his body is stiff against hers. She has a vague feeling that he is in shock, although over what is still unclear to her.

"And yet, here we are, being rude. Poor little human knows nothing. Marcus, make the introductions." The man takes a step back to stand beside the blonde and Demi lets out a large breath. There is another moment of silence, and Demi thinks that Marcus might not snap out of it.

But then he takes a step forward so that he stands beside her, his hands sliding from her shoulders and lightly grasping her elbow.

"Of course," he mutters. "Forgive me, dear. Demi, these are my brothers, Lord Aro," his hand flutters to the black haired man, "and Lord Caius." The blonde. "You will refer to them as such, understood?"

Demi does not answer him, partly because she thinks his question is rhetorical, and partly because she doesn't know what to say. Other than her small outcry when Aro— _Lord_ Aro, Demi thinks sarcastically—grabbed her hand and those strange pictures came to her eyes, Demi has been silent the entire time.

"Speak, human," Caius— _Lord_ Caius—demands, his lips curling cruelly over his teeth. He looks like a wild wolf, about to attack. Demi opens her mouth but has no inkling of what to say. She is still incredibly scared but as she looks at Caius' mocking smile, the anger underneath her fear finally begins to boil over. She says the only thing she has been wanting to say since she first heard the name 'Didyme' roll out Marcus' lips.

"I'm not whoever the fuck you think I am," she snarls out, taking on Caius'— _Lord_ Caius', she reminds herself again—hostile tone. She puts as much venom into her words as possible. All three men look shocked for a second ( _I guess their sweet Didyme never talked like that_ ), and Demi smiles at how _she_ is finally able to surprise _them,_ relishing in the feeling of being able to exert whatever little power she has in this situation to knock them off balance.

Lord Caius recovers quickly, though, and sneers at her.

"She's got quite a mouth on her, doesn't she?" Demi curls her hands into fists. Caius' tone pisses her off. Caius notes her annoyance, and his sneer turns into a full smile, showing all of his perfectly white teeth. She shivers involuntarily as her instincts scream at her to fight or run away.

"We'll have to work on her vocabulary." Now Caius is blatantly fishing for a reaction, and he gets one. He stands back and watches, pleased, as multiple emotions run across Demi's face.

"Fuck you," Demi spits at him, lunging forward a little in Marcus' grasp. Aro lets out a roar of laughter that echoes in the small room. Caius, however, frowns.

"Enough," Marcus commands. Aro stops laughing immediately. "We have more pressing matters to discuss." Aro regards Marcus for a moment, and Demi watches as multiple emotions flicker across Aro's own face, but then finally he nods once in agreement.

"Yes, of course, Marcus. Shall we retire to my chambers?" Aro offers. There is no verbal reply from Marcus but Aro smiles and sharply turns on his heel, walking out of the room, Caius following closely behind.

With a forceful hand at the nape of her neck, Marcus leads her out of what she realizes is an office, and down the hallway the two men had previously forced her down.

She flinches at Marcus' cold grip but does not otherwise fight the hold. Her eyes scan the darkened hallways for a possible way to escape, but she finds none. She trails behind the group as they lead her through a confusing and twisting maze of hallways and passages which return her to the elevator. As they wait for the elevator to open, Aro turns to Marcus.

"How did you find her, Marcus?" Marcus begins to softly caress the back of Demi's neck as he answers, causing more shivers of fright, cold, and attraction to run through Demi's body.

"I was by the window in my study, and her scent... I looked outside, and I saw her. Didyme. Just sitting on one of the benches, reading." Marcus pauses as the elevator doors open and the group steps into it. Aro blindly presses the button labeled '3'.

"I thought it was her," he admits quietly, looking away from Aro as if he is ashamed. His thumb does not stop making small circles against Demi's neck. "I truly believed this human was Didyme, even after Felix and Demetri brought her to me. Even after I felt her heart-beat." Demi stands quietly as Marcus confesses this, and she watches carefully as Aro places a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I did too, brother. I believe she was meant for you, and that it was your fate for you to find Demi tonight. I think Didyme, in all her wonder and brilliance, sent her here for you."

Marcus' eyes lift to meet Aro's and the two share something. Something passes between the two as they communicate with their eyes only, and the act is so intimate that Demi has to look away, her gaze falling on Caius. Caius is not watching the two either, and his red eyes are trained on Demi like a hawk's.

Before Demi all but breaks down under his intense, red stare, the elevator doors open, revealing one large, circular chamber. It is dramatically anticlimactic, as there is nothing in the room, not an ounce of furniture or a soul to be seen. The only thing the room holds are three doors.

One door is in the center of the back wall, directly across and parallel to the elevator. Then, perpendicular to the elevator are doors on both the right and left walls. This whole third floor is split into three separate wings.

Aro— _Lord_ Aro—leads the group to the door immediately across from the elevator. While walking across the marble stone, Caius lets out a quiet command, "Dora". Demi does not give much thought to the word, and thinks that perhaps it is an Italian word unknown to her limited knowledge of the language. But as Aro opens the door to the center wing, he makes a similar demand: "Sulpicia".

Marcus pulls her through the door.

Suddenly, there are two more people standing in front of Demi, although this time they are women. She jumps, startled, as they appear out of nowhere.

The first one is absolutely stunning and completely enchanting. She screams sex, with thin eyebrows that arch around her dark lashes and gleaming red eyes. Her nose is straight and leads to seductive pair of pale, pink lips. They curl upwards to show her square chin and sharp lines of the jaw. She is wearing a simple red dress that hugs her curves, with the hem _just_ flirting with the floor.

The other woman is a few inches taller than the first and about the same height as Demi. While the first woman screams sensuality and sex, this woman is different. Still undoubtedly beautiful, but in a much more subtle way. She's just as pale as the woman standing to her right, but not as pale as Aro. She has dirty blonde, wavy hair layered to just above the bottom of her breasts. Her face is heart shaped with an oval chin and jaw and she has much thicker eyebrows than the other woman. Her lashes are longer and darker as well, and her eyes are not as narrowed. She is wearing a long, simple, white strapless dress that highlights her long neck and delicious collarbone.

The two women suck in a gasp as Demi is revealed to them, and just as suddenly as they first appeared, they reappear less than a foot away, hands reaching out to touch her. They react the same way Aro and Caius had, with awe and confusion.

Demi jerks away frighteningly from their touch, but there is nowhere to go, as she backs into Marcus' chest. Suddenly, she realizes, as her head is pressed against his massive pecks, that she cannot feel his heartbeat. Her ear is right against his hard chest, but she cannot hear a thing. He is as silent as he is cold. And with that, her suspicions are confirmed; Marcus, his "brothers", and most likely these women as well, are not human.

This new thought paralyzes her, and she doesn't move as the women close in on her.

"Didyme!" The woman in the white dress cries happily. The woman tugs Demi away from Marcus and envelopes her in her arms. Demi feels the same coldness, and lack of heartbeat, that she felt from Marcus. _How had I missed it before?_ Demi wonders. _Marcus certainly pressed me against his body enough times before now._

Something causes the woman to stiffen suddenly, and she jumps back from her and hisses, her eyes narrowing to glare at Demi. The movement is so inhuman, so violent and animalistic, that had Demi not already figured out that these beings were not human, this action would have been the final clue.

"Human?" She looks to her side at Caius. He steps towards her and wraps an arm around her waist.

"This is what made me leave you earlier tonight," he mutters against the woman's throat as he nuzzles her. Demi feels uncomfortable and embarrassed as a sensual smile comes across the woman's face. "Yes, she is human."

The woman in the red dress has not moved from her spot, a foot in front of Demi, and now stands closest to her out of everyone. She scrutinizes her, looking her up and down before glaring. "She does not know who we are. She does not remember?"

"No, my love." It is Aro who speaks now, taking a step forward like to reach the woman, who offers her hand for him to take. Demi notices Aro pause for a second, but Demi has no idea why. Nonetheless, the pause is only momentarily and he shifts his eyes back to Demi as he continues.

"While she may look exactly like our dear, sweet, Didyme, she is not her," Aro speaks again.

Everybody's eyes are trained on Demi and it makes her skin crawl, her hairs stand up, and her heart pound. She can hear it in her ears, a _rushing_ and _swooshing_ sort of sound that blocks out most other noise. These people— _is that the right word for them? They aren't human, what do I call them?_ —are predators, and her fight and flight response is hyperactive around them.

The group is quiet for some time before Marcus talks from behind her. It makes Demi jump, because he had been so silent she had _almost_ —how silly of her!—forgotten he was there. "Let us sit down and discuss this. There is much to explain." He reaches out and grabs Demi by the arm lightly, turning her and pulling her deeper into the room.

The room is loft-like with wooden floors that creak underneath Demi's weight (but not, she notices, under the weight of the others). The walls are dark gray stone but several gold and red tapestries decorate them and drapes hang from the windows lining the walls. The curtains are open, and the moonlight the only strong light source in the room, despite the large chandelier hanging in the center of the ceiling.

Across the room on the wall is a large bed, the sheets rustled and unmade. Someone had been sleeping, or doing _something_ , in the bed before Demi was brought here. The sheets are gold and the comforter is a dark red, keeping within the color scheme of the entire castle. There are at least half a dozen pillows stacked against the wooden headboard or hazarding thrown around the surface of the bed. Around the mattress are four thin wooden columns, one at each corner, and a thin white veil threads through the hooks at the top.

The bed takes up the right side of the door, and on the left is a relatively large sitting area, with two couches and several chairs, all of them red with golden trim and pattern. A solid, dark wooden table is placed in the center of the semi-circle formation, and the furniture is angled inward to create a circle.

All together, the room has an interesting duality. It is shocking modern, with its sitting room and fine lines, while at the same time having the theatric, over-the-top ambience of the Renaissance, with the color and the grandeur of the furniture.

Marcus leads her towards one of the couches, pulling her down to sit beside him. Her thigh brushes against his on the two-seater, and it is only his restraining hand placed on her knee that keeps her in her seat after the small contact. Nonetheless, she still jerks away from him and presses herself against the armrest and back of the couch, folding in on herself.

Directly across from her, the four others squeeze into a couch meant for three people. They, unlike Demi, are not bothered by their close quarters or their intimate contact with each other as they stare at Demi, calculating.

"They share the same scent," the woman in red notes. She says it somewhat distantly, as if she is stating a scientific fact. "I wonder; do they share the same voice? Speak, girl." The command is so sharp, and the woman's red glare so terrifying, that it momentarily stuns Demi into silence. It takes her several seconds to gather enough courage, and enough sense, to string together a coherent sentence.

"I don't understand what's happening. Please, let me go. I am not whoever you mistake me as!" The last part is more pleaded than stated, but overall, Demi is proud of herself for not just immediately breaking down into sobs.

The red woman's frowns. "She's American," she says with displeasure. _I suppose that's a 'no' to the whole 'same voice' thing_. "And yes, I would presume that you are quite confused. Aro?" The woman arches a brow at the man sitting to her left.

"Of course, my dear, forgive me. Sulpicia, Athenodora, meet Miss Demi Harris, of Dayton, Ohio. Demi," Aro gestures to the red woman, who wears a thin and seductive smile, "my wife, Sulpicia." Next he flutters his hand across Caius, indicating the woman in the white. "Athenodora, Caius' wife."

"Call me Dora, dear. All my friends do," the woman chimes in. And for some reason, this irks Demi. It really angers her how the woman smiles at her, like they actually are friends. Demi can take Sulpicia's sneers, and Caius' glares, but she cannot take this woman's friendly smile or how she pretends that what is going on is completely normal. Apparently, her husband is similarly displeased, as Caius' lips twitch into a frown at his wife's words. If his wife notices, she does not react.

"We are not friends," Demi snaps. A flicker of surprise crosses the couples' faces. Beside her, Marcus lets out a growl. Before Demi can comprehend the inhuman sound, a cold hand wraps around her neck and clasps her chin tightly, forcing her head to turn towards the bright bloody eyes of her captor.

Marcus' breath is icy as it hits Demi in the face. His jaw is tight, his eyes blaze with anger, and his voice is as sharp as a knife. "Rule number one, _human_ ," he hisses out. His casual acknowledgment that he is indeed not a human makes Demi's heart skip a beat. "You will treat us with respect. We are above you in all ways." The hand tightens around her neck and Demi gasps.

Experiencing a semi-out-of-body experience, she can't help but to wonder if this was the last thing the policemen felt before they died; the cold hands of some alien creature wrapping around their necks and squeezing. Maybe they even felt the small twitch in his hands just before he dealt the final blow.

"Come now, Marcus," Aro says pleasantly from behind Demi, pulling her back to the present. "Our dear Demi is simply frightened. Humans often lash out when faced with a situation in which they are powerless." Again, Demi does not miss the subtle way he distances himself from her, in that she is human and he is not. _Well, if these people are not human, what are they?_

Marcus' eyes narrow at Aro's words, and while he loosens his grip enough to allow Demi to breathe, he does not let her go.

"You will apologize to Dora," Marcus' hisses at her. Demi's mouth runs dry, not necessarily at his words (although those provide a problem as well), but at his tone. 'Hisses' is the best, and only way, to describe how the words come out. _Maybe he's a snake,_ she thinks, surprised that she has any sense of humor left at all.

"I'm sorry," Demi whines out, glancing quickly over to the other couch. None of them are looking at her, but instead at Marcus. Demi finds it hard to read any emotion off of their stone hard faces and red eyes, but she thinks they look faintly surprised by Marcus. _What?_ _Is he not usually so violent with his captives?_

"Again." Marcus demands. His lips pull back from his teeth, and because Demi is less than six inches from them, it has now taken the title of being the most terrifying thing she has witnessed tonight. She sobs, and her body goes on autopilot to try and scamper away from him. Her hands come up to push and beat against his chest. "Apologize again, and mean it."

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I promise! Please, please let me go!" She's crying now and any promise she made to remain strong are now out the window. _Oh God! Just let me get away from this man!_

As if deliberately doing the opposite of her plea, Marcus leans closer towards her neck, his teeth just hovering over her arteries.

"Marcus!" Aro snaps loudly. Instantly, Demi is released and she collapses against the armrest, sobbing and crying fiercely. The others are still staring at Marcus, and this time the shock is easy to read on their faces. They truly are surprised at Marcus' actions.

"What has gotten into you, brother?" Aro questions. Instead of answering, Marcus' simply thrusts out a hand to hang in between himself and Aro. Without hesitation, Aro clasps it in his own. He does not close his eyes, or bow his head, as he had done when he held Demi's hand, but his eyes did lose focus.

Only seconds later, Aro releases Marcus. "I see, brother. My, my," he mutters softly, leaning back into the couch. Marcus swivels his eyes from Aro to watch Demi, still crying pitifully loud. "I agree with your assessment. It is interesting that you are already tied so strongly to her, and yet your bond to Didyme remains untouched."

Demi can _just_ hear Aro's light, conversational tone, over her cries and she tries to quiet them to better hear him. They'll talking about her, and she wants to know what they're saying. She also needs to gain her composure if she's going to escape. While her future looks less and less likely to contain a sex slavery ring, she still does not want to be here. She might not know much about who, or what, these people are, but she knows they're dangerous. Her instincts tell her that, and they have already proven they have no trouble with murder.

"I cannot lie; I am just as intrigued by her as you. If Caius has no problem with your plan, I see no reason why you cannot keep her."

Keep her.

 _Keep her. Keep…me?_ Aro's words pound in Demi's head. She replays them several times before she makes the connection that she is the 'her' in the sentence.

"Your plan?" She hears Caius question from someplace far away.

"She'll be my wife…again."

At this, Demi turns her head from where it was curled up into the armrest and towards Marcus. _He did not just say what I think he said. There is no way I heard that correctly._ But Caius simply nods his head like he expected this.

"I assumed. I am happy for you, brother. You are alive once more."

The women remain silent, although Dora has a smile on her face, and Sulpicia, well she's not _not_ smiling, so they both seem pleased.

But Demi is still trying to wake up from this nightmare. This all has to be some kind of sick joke. None of what she has witnessed here tonight can be real. And certainly not what Marcus just said. He cannot honestly expect Demi to marry him. _Can he?_

With each passing moment, Demi is dragged deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole. It seems impossible, but each new development makes her situation worse than previous. First, she had been tricked by some not-so-honest cops, then she watched those two officers be brutally murdered before being kidnapped by the men who did so. Next, she's brought to Marcus, a man who thinks he has some weird claim on her and who whispers another woman's name into her ear, and who will not explain anything. Then she finds out that not only is Marcus (and presumably everyone else in this castle) not human, he wants to marry her.

She would laugh, if she hadn't been the one to live through it.

These people talk so vaguely about who and what they are, and what exactly they want with Demi that it makes her head hurt. None of this helps Demi in her escapes to attempt. The first rule in beating thine enemy, is knowing thine enemy, and Demi knows nothing. While the first thing Demi wants to scream at these people is that they are all crazy and that there is no chance in hell she would ever marry Marcus, that won't help her get any more information. So she goes with her second most pressing concern.

"What are you?" She finds her voice with surprising ease as she pulls herself up from the fetal position to sit with her back straight and her shoulders back. So far, being afraid and timid has not helped her get out of this situation (she stubbornly refuses to acknowledge that her bravo has yet to work either) so she decides to try a new strategy—one that involves not breaking down into a sniveling, quaking fool the moment one of them even looks at her.

The red eyes of death return to her, and she eventually does have to drop her eyes to look at the floor, as to not lose her nerve. Well there goes the whole 'look strong' thing. "You're hearts do not beat. Your skin is all but translucent, yet I see no veins in your hands. You speak of humans like you are not one. You are cold and strong and hard. You are not human, so what are you?"

"What marvelous observations!" Aro's high pitched voice squeals. "And what a good question too, my dear. Marcus, would you like the honors?"

"We are vampires."

 _Well, that was unexpected_. Demi sits, silent and stunned as she tries to think of a way to respond. It's not that she does not believe him, but to hear him say the word so casually and straightforward and with no 'dun dun dun!' music following his pronouncement is a shock.

When Marcus sees the slack-jawed look of confusion on her face, he says, "A demonstration perhaps?"

Demi remains silent. Her mind is still processing his earlier statement, and this new one goes in one ear and out the other without a thought.

But across the room, Caius is smiling. " _Marvelous_ idea, brother." Caius makes a point to mimic and mock Aro, exaggerating and drawing out his words. Aro's smile does not falter, however, and Demi is unsure if he simply missed the slight jab or if he is deliberately not acknowledging it.

With a movement that Demi's eyes do not catch, (v _ampires, huh_ ) Caius is on his feet. "I will call for someone to bring us up a snack." He disappears, and on autopilot, Demi turns her head around to see him by the right side of the bed, picking up a landline phone and pressing a button. His lips move as he speaks into it, but Demi can hear no sound. In an instant, he is gone from the spot.

A sudden breeze behind her is her only warning. Slowly, still on autopilot, she finds Caius sitting back down on the couch, like he never even left. Unknown to herself, she's nodding her head vigorously. _Yes, yes, that makes sense. Vampires._

She feels Marcus' arms capture her again, holding her tight against him but she does not fight. For a moment, she presses her ear against his chest, just to make sure that he indeed does not have a heartbeat, and when this is confirmed, she does not attempt to pull away. _Hmm…I guess him being a vampire could explain this, and his fast movements, and his insistence that he smell me._

In fact, right now, as she thinks this, Marcus subjects her to another session of him practically inhaling her. She is not sure how long this lasts, but he finally let's go of her when there is one single knock on the door. The sound jars her a little, pulling her from her thoughts, and she watches Caius float across the wooden floors, never making a sound, to open the door.

Just outside the doorframe is a man and a sobbing, pleading woman.

"Master," the man says with a small bow of his head as Caius is revealed to him. With a start, Demi recognizes that this man is not human; his pale skin and red eyes are almost identical to those beings currently in the room with her. She also realizes he is not one of the men who brought her to Marcus. Counting the five in here, this man outside, and the two men who kidnapped her, there are at least eight vampires in this castle.

The man is holding onto the sobbing girl by her arm. Demi quickly recognizes the scene in front of her; had she not been that sobbing girl, begging to be let go as she was lead through the castle by a cold hand on her arm, just an hour (if that) ago?

"You may leave," is all Caius says as he takes the woman from his grasp. He closes the door firmly and hauls the trembling girl through the room. Aro, Sulpicia, and Dora stand from their seats as Caius marches the girl towards the wooden table placed in between the couches.

" _Per favore! No, lo prometto, sarò buono!"_ The girl pleads, struggling to get away from Caius.

Demi's Spanish is about as bad as her Italian, but even she understands enough to know what the girl is saying. Hell, she's sure that this girl is using the same words that she herself used.

Beside Demi, Marcus is utterly still and silent as the girl is dragged across the wooden table in between the couches. The girl's yells and pleads dissolve into screeches. Horrible, terrible, high-pitched wails of desperation. They hurt Demi's ears and she has to shove her palms against her head. _My god, is this what I looked and sounded like?_

Caius pushes the girl down upon the table so that her face is turned towards the ceiling. Sulpicia, Aro, Caius and Dora fall to their knees around her. She looks like a sacrifice for a benevolent, but demanding, god, as her arms and legs frail about to find some leverage and the god's loyal worshippers keep her in place. The girl tries to sit up, but a quick hand around her throat keeps her down.

Comprehension is just beginning to dawn on Demi; _hadn't Caius said something about snacks?_ She tries to stand up, but Marcus' hand on her knee stops her. She uses a different tactic.

"Hey! Stop! Don't!" She emphasizes as the group begins to place their hands on the girl's body, as if claiming their zone. Caius has the girl's upper right thigh, Sulpicia grabs the girl's left wrist, Dora hovers above the upper left thigh (mirroring her husband), and Aro leans his body across her chest, his lips placing small but sensual kisses on the girl's throat.

 _Vampires. They're vampires._ Demi is fully convinced. But surely, they would not…

"No, stop, please!" Her words have no bearing on the events playing out in front of her. Suddenly, she feels as helpless as she imagines the girl about to be teared into feels. "Stop!" She screams as those gathered around the girl begin to lean in. She sees their lips pull back, their shiny teeth gleam in the light.

"Oh God," Demi moans. "Oh God no!" She closes her eyes, not wanting to witness the girl's death.

"Open your eyes," Marcus' cool voice floats into her ear. He's right next to her, a cold hand on her arm, rubbing up and down. She shakes her head and squeezes her eyes tighter shut. "Open your eyes," he tells her again, harder this time, "or I'll ask for another human, and their unnecessary death will be on your hands."

The threat is enough to force Demi's eyes open, and she sees that the others have not started their meal yet. The girl is still thrashing in their holds, crying and pleading in Spanish. Demi is grateful she can't understand the girl, because she is sure that if she could, she would never be able to get the woman's last words out of her head.

As soon as Demi's eyes return to the girl, the group attacks, sinking their teeth into her flesh like a knife through butter. The girl's screams cut off suddenly, as Aro's teeth contract around her throat. Demi can't tell if the girl's silence is because she is already dead, or if Aro severed her vocal chords in his initial bite.

Demi is all too aware of Marcus' body pressed up against her as she watches the murder of yet another human. It is her third witnessed murder of the night, and it seems like with each death, the horridness becomes worse and worse. Demi can no longer watch, and she twists in Marcus' hold just enough to lean over the side of the couch and vomit. She continues to dry heave long after the pasta and gelato Demi had for dinner find their way back up.

She can barely breathe, but she isn't sure if that is due to her retching or her sobbing. She feels unbelievably exhausted and there is a dull roaring in her ears. Cold arms wrap around her and then...


	2. P1, Ch2: Learning (Demi2)

**Part One,** **Chapter Two: Learning (Demi POV #2)**

* * *

Demi wakes up in the warm and comfy bed of her hotel room. A bright light pushes against her closed eyes and she snuggles closer to her pillows. _That dream! Wow!_ She would have laughed at her imagination, if the nightmare had not been so horrifying. Vampires… _jeesh_. _Where had that even come from?_

She can't remember coming back to the hotel last night, or even leaving the fountain. She knows _that_ part of her dream was based in reality at least, but when had she actually left the fountain? For a second, she remembers the policemen from her dream, and hears the sickening sound of their necks snapping. She shivers, even surrounded by her blankets.

"I know you are awake." Demi's eyes snap open and she sits straight up in her bed _. That voice._ That voice belongs to a figment of her imagination, a monster she made up in her dreams. _He is not real._

But he sure does look real as Demi finds him, standing by the foot of her bed, dressed in the same black outfit he had on in her dream. His red eyes are staring at Demi with a sense of disinterest, as if her allure from the night before is now gone.

"I thought—I thought it might have been a dream." Marcus gives a humorless snort, and shakes his head.

"No, not a dream."

Demi is displeased to find his voice just as startling and beautiful and _sexy_ as she found it last night. She takes a moment to calm herself.

Demi is beginning to become aware of her body; her muscles ache and her mouth tastes of something foul. She remembers vomiting last night, and she tries to ignore the memories of what exactly made her sick in the first place.

Demi glances down at her body. She's wearing the same blue jeans and grey short-sleeved t-shirt that she had on the previous night (they smell disgustingly like her vomit; she desperately needs to shower and change into clean clothes), but her black boots are missing. She gasps as she sees the multitude of dark bruises along the tops of her arms from where she had been grabbed and pulled earlier.

Demi peeks at Marcus again, unsure how to interact with him. Demi runs her tongue along her teeth again; she can still taste the bile coating her gums.

"Is there a toothbrush I can use?" She asks Marcus tentatively, deciding her breath is the simplest problem she can fix.

He looks at her with a small frown on his lips and a crease between his brows.

"No," he says simply. There is a pregnant pause. Demi's breath is choking her.

"Do you think you could get me one?" She snaps at him, glaring. His expression does not change.

"I think that will be possible, yes." The pair are silent for some time, Demi scrutinizing Marcus as he scrutinizes her. It is obvious that he is not going to be getting her a toothbrush any time soon, so Demi decides to broach her real question.

"So…it's true then?" Demi asks with trepidation. "You are…." Demi isn't sure she can finish the sentence. An image from last night, the young girl crying in Spanish for help, burns her eyes.

"A vampire." Marcus' lips twitch. "Yes."

Demi swallows loudly. "What do you want with me?" She asks him.

He cocks his head to the side and stares at her with unwavering and unblinking red eyes. Her skin crawls under his gaze and her breathing hitches as her heart beats faster. It's like her body instinctively knows that he is dangerous and it keeps triggering her fight or flight response. Unfortunately, neither option is available to her.

But there's also something else. He frightens her, more than she ever thought one single person could frighten another. But the pull that she felt yesterday when she first laid eyes on him, when she first heard his voice, is still present, right underneath her fear. He stares at her, and she stares back, wanting to look away but unable to resist looking at him.

After a long moment, Marcus breaks the stillness when he turns from her and walks toward the door. He pauses briefly as he holds the door knob. He does not even glance over his shoulder as he says, "Come."

Demi slips down from the large bed and follows him out of the room, calling him ' _dick_ ' in her head several times for good measure. Her room opens up into a luxurious hallway, with multiple other doors distributed along the wall. Marcus walks down the hall and passes two other doors before opening the third door. Demi follows him inside.

The new room is a lot like the previous one. It is barren of furniture, except for a lone painting hanging on the wall directly across from the door. As Demi's eyes focus on the image, she gasps loudly.

The painting is a portrait of Demi, but instead of depicting her wearing jeans and a t-shirt, the Demi in the painting is wearing a bright red gown with black lace accents. The dress is definitely not something from this time; it reminds Demi of the clothing that aristocrats wore during the Renaissance (or at least of what actress playing aristocrats from the Renaissance would wear). The Painting-Demi is a carbon copy of the Real-Demi. All of their features are the same, from the curve of their noses and lips to the shape of their eyes. Everything is in perfect likeness. Well, almost everything is the same; Painting-Demi shares Marcus' eye color, instead of Real-Demi's.

Logically, Demi knows that the woman sitting in the painting, with a small and sly smile on her face, is not herself _. It must be_ her, she realizes. _The woman they all think I am: Didyme_.

"She looks just like me," she muses out loud, not taking her eyes off the painting.

"No," Marcus snaps at her. Demi glances over at him. He is also looking at the painting, and although his face is strangely devoid of any emotion, his hands are clenched at his sides. "No, _you_ look like _her_. She is the original. This painting was done more than two millennia ago."

Demi's eyes widen at the number. _That would make him…_ "You—you're immortal?" She splutters out. Marcus looks at her out of the corner of his eye.

"I am a vampire," he says simply, as if this should explain everything. It only serves to remind Demi that she truly has no idea who Marcus and his brothers are, or what it means to be a vampire _. Does he have fangs? Does he burn in the sun? If I find a stake, can I kill him?_

Demi looks back at the woman in the painting. "Her name is Didyme?"

"Was." Marcus' voice is as empty of emotion as his face is when he corrects her. He looks and sounds utterly disinterested with the conversation. He is nothing like he was last night. Last night he had passion, excitement, _hope_ , in his voice, and today he has nothing. It's like his body is simply a shell, and his mind has left him.

"Oh." Demi had suspected, of course, with the way they all mentioned Didyme in the past.

"Yes." Demi remembers his words from last night in response to Aro's question: _'She'll be my wife, again.'_

"She was your wife?" Demi asks cautiously, eyeing Marcus from the corner of her eye. He doesn't answer her, doesn't even take his eyes off the painting to glance at her. "You want to marry _me_ ," she accuses him, pouting.

"Yes," he says, with no hint of remorse.

"But why?" Demi demands, turning to face him fully now. "It doesn't make any sense..."

"When I saw you sitting on that bench last night, I thought you were her. Even now, I'm standing here beside you, hearing your blood rush through you, and I still believe you to be her. I want you to be my wife because it will fulfill my fantasy." Once again, he keeps his eyes on the painting, his voice never changing tone or emphasis.

"What do you get out of this? Doesn't this do a disservice to Didyme?" At her words, Marcus whips his head around sharply to glare at Demi. _Whoa! We've got a live one!_

"I will let your disrespect go unpunished this one time, but if you ever speak her name with such flippancy again, I'll kill you myself. Are we clear, girl?" Marcus' words bite into her and without a conscious thought, Demi enthusiastically nods her head. Marcus regards her for another moment before returning his eyes to the painting.

Demi stays focused on Marcus. She can't stand to look at the painting. It causes her physical pain, seeing herself with red eyes and a predatory gaze and pale skin and sharp teeth. Even knowing that it isn't really _her_ doesn't stop Demi from imagining that the monster depicted in the painting is not just her past, but her future as well.

"As to your first question," he begins, his tone monotone again, "I have not been alive since she died. I have been grieving for what I lost for two thousand years. You cannot even begin to imagine my despair. But you, Demi"—his eyes remain forward—"your presence has awakened me. Your entrance into my life has made it bearable to live again. I have talked more these past few hours than I have in the last four hundred years combined. So, yes, most of the time I am aware that you are not my true mate, but even then, I seem to have suddenly...woken up. That is why you will marry me."

Demi doesn't know which part of his speech to focus on. "'Most of the time?'" She finally settles on.

"I seem to have my moments where I forget myself," Marcus admits quietly. Demi stares at him curiously. "Yesterday, when you were purging and crying, I went to comfort you." Demi draws her eyebrows up in surprise; she has no recollection of this.

"At that moment, all I saw was _her_. I saw Didyme suffering and I wanted to console her." Marcus seems upset with his confession as he turns his body to face Demi.

Slowly, he brings his hand up to gently cradle her face. "You look _so_ much like her." His voice breaks, and for a moment, he looks like he is going to cry; his lower lip draws in, and his eyebrows push together.

"But I'm not her." Demi's voice is gentle but firm. It is the same voice Demi uses on her three year-old cousin when telling the little girl why she cannot have a fifth chocolate cookie. Marcus reacts the same way Demi's cousin does: with anger.

His eyes widen at her words and his hand on her chin tightens.

"No. And there is absolutely nothing I wish more than for her to be here by my side, instead of you. But that is something I will never again be able to experience. No, you are not my mate. You could never even begin to comprehend what she meant—what she _means_ —to me."

His hold grows even stronger and a cruel smile comes across his face. Demi's heart beats faster, and she begins to understand how incredibly stupid her comment was. "But you, human," he snarls the word out, "are the closest thing I will ever get to her again, so you will play your role." With that he lets go of her and steps back.

Marcus stops for a while after that, giving both of them time to absorb his words. Demi is not sure what to think. She looks back at the painting of Didyme, her chin trembling in an effort not to cry. Her hands ball into fists against her thighs and she has an overwhelming urge to scream at the top of her lungs.

"She gave you to me, you know," Marcus speaks again. Demi blinks back tears as she glances questionably at him, but he is once again staring at Didyme. "I don't think you can ever understand the similarities you two share. I have chosen to believe that this," his hand flutters up and down in the air, gesturing to Demi's body, "is not just a coincidence. She sent you to me. You were made for me. Your face, your scent, your body—they were all built for me. Even your name!" Marcus exclaims, finally turning to Demi again.

"We have our names for each other, as all couples do. Athenodora goes by 'Dora'. Aro refers to Sulpicia as 'Sia'. And I, I called Didyme 'Demi'."

The color drains from Demi's face. "What?" She asks shrilly. _He can not be serious._ "You're telling me that your nickname for your late vampire wife was Demi? You honestly believe that I am a...what? A gift? For you?"

"I do. Unless you have another explanation," Marcus says with just the tiniest hint of a smirk. _Well that cocky bastard!_

"I can assure you that my entire life was not created just for you," Demi manages to say through clenched teeth. She no longer feels like crying. She feels like killing the son of a bitch where he stands now. _Vampires. All I need is a sharp piece of wood and then he's gone._

Marcus raises an eyebrow and takes a step forward. Demi gulps loudly and cranes her head back to see above his chest. He's staring at her intently. "You find me attractive," Marcus states simply. He doesn't give Demi a chance to refute the claim. "Everything about me draws you in, does it not? My voice," he drawls out the word, "excites you. My eyes enchant you and you have an unexplainable urge to be near me." Marcus is closer to her now, and his mouth is right next to Demi's ear. With each pause he takes, cold air hits Demi's inner ear and she shudders.

"That's not true." Even to herself, Demi's denial sounds weak. Marcus gives a small chuckle and straightens.

"Whatever you say, my dear," he teases. "But I am drawn to you and you are drawn to me, more so than a normal human should be drawn to a vampire. Deny it if you will, but you know the truth."

Demi has to look away from him. _This is absolutely bat-shit crazy and he's a conceited, delusional asshole_. The idea that she was created for him—was "sent" to him—is a very uncomfortable thought for Demi. Her first instinct is to deny it, to reject it. But she looks at the painting again, the painting that is of her, but at the same time of a completely different entity, one who is not even part of Demi's own species. She looks at Didyme and it's like looking into a mirror. Demi fails to come up with another explanation. There is no way this should be possible. Demi remembers what Caius exclaimed upon seeing her: " _Doppelgänger_."

 _But Doppelgängers are not created by the dead, are they? They aren't sent down from old lovers to give a person (and especially not a vampire) another chance._

Demi continues to stare at Didyme, wondering if such a thing were possible. And if so, why had Didyme condemned Demi to such a horrible fate?

"I don't believe it," Demi mutters.

"You don't have to," Marcus responds smoothly. "I was never one to believe in God, or an afterlife, or even Fate. I'm not completely sure if I do now, but I see no other cause for this. Take out your likeness to her, and just think about all the small things that had to happen to bring you to me. That alone helps prove my point. Aro tells me you are visiting Italy between semesters at university—"

"How does he know that?" Demi cuts Marcus off harshly. "How did he know my name last night? How did he know I was from Ohio?"

Marcus appraises Demi and then looks down at a watch on his wrist. "I have matters to attend to elsewhere. The Wives will be expecting you." Marcus turns and heads for the door, leaving Demi shocked by the sudden change in topic. He's already half way down the hall by the time she steps out of the room.

"The Wives?" She asks as she runs to catch up with him.

"Sulpicia and Dora." He informs her.

 _Oh. Will that be my title one day? Will I be one of the 'Wives'?_

Marcus is still walking—although he has so such grace it looks more like gliding—quickly down the hall at a pace too fast for Demi.

She struggles to match him and calls out, "Will there be food there?" The question causes Marcus to jerk to a stop and Demi takes the opportunity to catch up to him.

"No," he frowns, eyeing Demi warily. "Why?" She looks back at him like he is crazy.

"I haven't eaten since last night," she says slowly. _Do vampires not eat food? Or even understand that humans eat food?_ And of course these questions bring up other questions about vampires: _Is one born a vampire or can a human be changed into one?_

"Oh, yes, of course. I forget how often humans need nourishment," Marcus says simply. He turns back around on his heel and begins his pace again. "When we arrive I will have one of the servants bring you something," he throws over his shoulder. Demi once again rushes forward.

 _Servants?_ _Dear God, what the fuck have I gotten myself into?_

Marcus exists his wing, bringing Demi to the circular room from before. Marcus guides her across the marble floors to the middle door, the same door the group had gone through last night.

Upon entering Aro's suites, Demi and Marcus are immediately met with Sulpicia, this time in a deep blue dress that is just as seductive as the red one from before. She smiles wide at Demi, and gives a tinkling laugh when Demi flinches away from her.

"Sulpicia," Marcus warns her. Her smile falls to her normal scowl.

"I was just trying to be friendly. I am told she will soon be joining me and Dora as wives."

Demi eyes Sulpicia warily. Sulpicia seems much like Caius in regards to her feelings about Demi. Demi thinks it is pretty clear that neither of them like her very much. But so far today, besides the threatening smile, Sulpicia's actions appear kind and her words genuine.

"She needs to be taught," Marcus says simply. Sulpicia nods her head, like she knows full well what this means. She reaches out and grabs Demi's wrist, pulling her away from Marcus' side.

"Don't you worry, dear. We'll explain everything," she addresses Demi, turning away from Marcus.

"She needs food," Marcus says softly. Sulpicia does not respond. Demi looks back when she hears the door open, but Marcus is already gone.

When Sulpicia pulls Demi into her and Aro's bedroom, Dora is there to greet the two. Sulpicia guides Demi to sit beside Dora in the same seating area from last night. Demi examines the couches and table in front of her; she can see no evidence that a murder took place there only a few hours ago ( _was it only a few hours ago? How long had I been asleep? What time is it?_ ), nor is there any stain on the gold and red carpet from where Demi heaved up her dinner.

Sulpicia leaves the two and walks to the landline phone that Caius had used to call for the "snack". For a moment of horror, Demi thinks Sulpicia is asking for another human to murder, but instead she asks for human food— _food for humans, not_ human _food, thank the Lord_ —to be sent up for Demi.

Then Sulpicia returns back to the couch, to sit on the other side of Demi, making her the middle of a vampire sandwich. Demi's mouth runs dry. Sitting beside these incredibly beautiful creatures brings all the negative emotions of being near Marcus—the skin crawling, the fast heart beat, the fear and flush of adrenaline—without any of the positive—the strange fascination she has for him, the arousal his every word and movement brings, the strong pull that makes it somewhat bearable to be around him.

"Uhh...what time is it?" Demi asks timidly.

"I don't know," Dora responds. She glances to a window covered completely by a heavy red curtain. "The sun's still out," she says.

 _How the hell does she know that?_ Demi muses. She looks towards the window again, but not a spec of light can come through the curtain.

Demi glances questionably at Sulpicia but the woman doesn't offer her anything else. "You're telling me you have no way to know the exact time?" Demi cannot believe it. Surely, there must be a clock or something around here.

"We tend not to concern ourselves with time," Sulpicia says. "We have no use for it."

 _What the flying fuck?_

Demi doesn't know what to think of that. She pats her jean pockets, just to make sure she doesn't have her phone on her. The last time she had looked at a clock had been yesterday night at the fountain, and it had been past one o'clock in the morning. She has absolutely no idea how long she has slept, how long she has been "missing". Have her parents tried contacting her yet? They usually speak about every three or so days, not for long because _wow! can international rates be expensive_ , but just long enough to make sure she is safe and doing fine.

A knock on the door brings Demi back to the present. It's Dora who goes to answer it, and Demi twists in her seat to see a human girl enter the room, carrying a plate of food. She silently offers it to Demi, placing it on the table in front of her and lifting the top off. Demi almost cries when she sees a simple, homemade hamburger and a side of fries. Demi greatly appreciates the comfort food that reminds her of home, but she is wary of the human's service; _is she a prisoner too?_

The woman exits just as quickly and quietly as she entered and Demi watches her as she leaves.

Both Dora and Sulpicia look disgusted as Demi takes her first bite into the hamburger.

"You honestly find that edible?" Sulpicia asks with a frown.

"You don't eat food?" Demi asks, shocked, although in retrospect, she shouldn't have been. She's already seen what they consider dining.

"Of course not!" Dora exclaims, as if by even suggesting such a horrid thing, Demi has insulted her honor.

"Oh." Demi takes another few bites of her food. "What about that girl who brought me my food? Is she here against her will too?"

"Most of the servants are here by choice. Some are born into it, some are recruited. But, they are fully aware of what we are, and they know that at any second we could kill them," Sulpicia informs Demi. Demi almost chokes on her food when she hears Sulpicia's nonchalant tone in regards to brutally murdering someone.

"Then why are they here? Why would someone—"

"Because they hope that if they please us enough, we will turn them into one of us."

"So you guys aren't born vampires?" Demi asks.

"No, of course not. We were all, at one point, human. A vampire has to bite a human, and the human has to remain alive for three days while the venom causes the change. It is an excruciatingly painful process. Your whole body feels like it's on fire. For three days, and three nights, you burn away to ashes. And then you wake up, hard as rock, unchangeable as stone, beautiful like nothing else in the word, and with an insatiable lust for blood."

Sulpicia's tone is suspiciously full of glee as she describes the brutal process.

"And they want that?" Demi asks appallingly.

"Who wouldn't?" Sulpicia smiles sweetly at Demi. Demi scoffs and rolls her eyes; _I certainly wouldn't want it._ "To be an immortal, never having to fear death? To be the pinnacle of evolution? To know you are indestructible? Of course people would want to be a vampire. You will see soon, when you become one of us."

Demi jerks upright; there are lots of interesting things to address in that declaration, but Demi focuses on the last one.

"'Become one of _you_?'" She splutters out, her eyes wide. Sulpicia's answering smile is cruel and sadistic.

"You think Marcus will keep you human? Let you die, after he just found you again?"

Anger consumes Demi.

"He. Did. Not. Find. Me. 'Again'! I am _not_ Didyme!" She screeches. Dora and Sulpicia share a glance.

"Of course not. She did not mean it like that," Dora soothes Demi, gently grabbing her wrist and rubbing her fingers across Demi's skin. "What she means is, no human, once they learn about vampires, is allowed to continue living. They either must be killed, or they must be turned. It is the law."

"The law?"

"Oh, my!" Dora exclaims softly, shaking her head. "There is so much to tell you. How to even begin?" She looks to Sulpicia, but the other woman doesn't offer any suggestions.

"We—myself, Sulpicia, Aro, Caius, Marcus, and even Didyme when she was alive—are a coven of vampires called the Volturi. We are the rulers of our kind, royalty in a sense, and the police in another. We make laws to protect both vampires and humans, and we enforce them. Vampires either obey, or die."

"You're the judge, jury, executioner, and crown?" Demi clarifies.

"Yes." The answer comes from Sulpicia on the other side of Demi, but Demi doesn't even spare a glance at her. Demi wants to ask how Marcus fits into this, how _she_ fits into this, but she also doesn't want to seem _too_ eager to talk about Marcus, lest that help prove his claim of her infatuation. So she tables it for now, in order to ask another nagging question.

"You speak of laws."

"There are only a few, but the main and most important one is to keep the existence of vampires a secret. This one law is the underlying principle behind our rule, and we take it very seriously. No human can ever find out about vampires and be left alive to spread the truth. So you can see, how even if Marcus was willing to keep you human, which he most definitely is not, he couldn't. It would not be good for the Volturi to ignore the very rules they impose on others."

"But—but the servants are human…." Demi points out, desperately trying to find a loophole. Dora grimaces, and Sulpicia jumps in.

"Yes, but they never leave the castle. They have no one to tell, and most of them are indeed killed. Very few are ever turned, and every few years, a purge of such happens, where we kill off most of our servants to make room for new ones. So we keep within the law. But to keep you, a wife, human? Completely out of the question."

 _I'm not a wife yet,_ Demi thinks. _And with a little luck will hopefully never be._

Demi decides not to fight them on the issue, for now. "You said there were other laws."

Dora waves her hand dismissively. "We'll get to those. I'm afraid they won't make sense without explaining other things first."

Dora goes into the finer details of the Volturi's structure and operations. Those she listed earlier are technically the only members of the Volturi Coven ( _and I guess me too, now?)_. All other vampires in the castle are part of the Guard. Aro, Caius, and Marcus (the Brothers, as Dora refers to them) are the leaders of the Coven, Guard, and the entire vampire race. The Guard's main purpose is to help enforce the laws set by the Brothers, as well as protect the Coven.

The Wives then share the responsibility of telling Demi about the formation and growth of the Volturi Coven, which turns to a lesson on the early years of vampire history. They tell her about the Egyptians and Romanians, two large covens that existed thousands of years ago. Their openness about their activities is what first created the myth of vampires. Both groups thought themselves gods, and enslaved humans and demanded sacrifices. They made no effort to hide their existence.

The three Brothers met each other in Greece, and they all had similar ideas on what the future for vampires should be, and it was not shared by the current leading covens.

"The original coven was only Aro, Didyme, Caius and I," Dora says. "We had cooperated with each other for around twenty-five years, brought together by Aro and Caius' mutual respect for each other's minds, skills, and ambition. Marcus was just a nomad, albeit an old and well educated one, we stumbled upon in our travels. He immediately impressed Aro and Caius with his brilliance, and he and Didyme were instantly drawn together. It took but a few days for them to fall in love and became mates."

"Mates?" Demi interrupts the story for the first time.

"Humans would call them soul-mates, but a vampire's love for their mate can not be comprehended by such a human construct. Humans cannot even begin to imagine what a vampire's relationship with his or her mate is like. The love they share for each other is unexplainable in many ways, even by many vampires themselves. Only truly mated vampires know what it is like."

"Didyme was Marcus' mate?" Demi clarifies. She vaguely remembers Marcus mentioning the term in regards to Didyme, but mostly he had referred to her as his wife.

"Just as I am Caius', and she is Aro's," Dora says, gesturing to Sulpicia.

"But you weren't with the original coven?" Demi asks, her focus on Sulpicia.

"No. I was the last to join. Aro...he had never been interested in any of the vampire women he had met. He believed the only way to find his perfect mate was to create her.

"I do not remember the first time I met him," Sulpicia confesses with a small smile. "He has told me the story many times since that day, but I was too young to remember even as a human, and now all of my human memories are gone.

"I was four when I ran into the woods surrounding my family's small farm. My best guess it that I was curious and wanted to explore, as all children do, but I like to think that I knew, somehow, he was there and that I was running towards my future."

As Sulpicia continues, her voice becomes lighter, child-like. Her eyes aren't focused on Demi or Dora, but rather on a time thousands of years earlier. Demi watches, entranced, as Sulpicia glows with pure joy as she recreates the moment.

"He was alone that day, a rarity at the time, and he smelled my blood from miles away. He knew me to be a child but that was no concern to him. He tells me that it was my face that made him pause. He says that even then, at that young age, he knew I would turn out to be a beauty. I was sitting on a fallen tree, playing with rocks and digging in the dirt when he approached me.

"I don't remember the exchange, and he has always been vague in describing the events that occurred, but whatever I said or did changed the course of my existence. He walked me home and that very day slaughtered my family."

Demi's jaw drops. Sulpicia either doesn't notice or doesn't care, as she continues her story with nostalgia dripping from every word.

"He whisked me away to an elite boarding school for young ladies. He gave strict instructions on how I was to be raised. And every few years, he would check in on me. I don't remember any of those encounters anymore, and I will not bore you with the specifics of them, but from everything Aro tells me, it is where I grew to love him and he, me. My teachers were harsh, that I do know, but they trained me to his specifications. They trained me to be the perfect wife, _his_ perfect mate.

"He finally came to collect me soon after my nineteenth year. He explained everything to me that night, and I was not for a second scared. I knew he wouldn't hurt me. I loved him and I knew he loved me. He offered me the bite. He promised to make me powerful; a queen." Sulpicia flutters her arms around the room, gesturing to the grand opulence. "And he did."

Demi stares in silent horror at the gleeful smile on Sulpicia's face. _Is she bat shit insane? She thinks that is some grand and beautiful love story?_

"Uh-huh," is all Demi says instead. The smile immediately wipes off Sulpicia's face at Demi's tone. She scowls at her, huffs, then turns away.

"We're deviating from the topic," Dora interjects gently, drawing Demi's attention. "We should move back to basics."

And then Dora fills in the more complex details of what it means to be a vampire. Apparently, Demi learns, current lore and myth is almost one hundred percent wrong. Vampires do not burn in the sun; "We still avoid it, because direct sunlight can show us to not be human, but sunlight is not dangerous to us," Dora tells her.

Vampires do not sleep in coffins either, in fact, they do not sleep at all. They all have superhuman senses, strength, and speed, something Demi has personally witnessed multiple times in the last 24 hours. Garlic and crosses do nothing to repel them and a stake to the heart wouldn't even cause a vampire to flinch.

"Really?" Demi interrupts Dora's explanation here.

Dora must have heard Demi's implied question in her tone, because she lets out a little twinkling laugh. "The only way to kill a vampire is to tear them apart and burn the pieces." Dora lets her statement hang in the air for a moment before continuing. "And the only thing that can tear a vampire's flesh is the teeth or strength of another vampire." Dora's eyes suddenly narrow and she puckers her lips. Her expression turns stormy and Demi can hear a quiet but strong growl escape her clenched teeth. "Or a werewolf."

Demi is sure her eyes just fell out of her skull and her jaw has hit the floor. "WHAT?" She chokes out. "Werewolves?"

Sulpicia finally returns her attention to the conversation and looks at Dora for a few seconds before answering Demi. "Yes, werewolves also exist, but we've done a good job with almost completely exterminating them."

Demi takes a minute to consider this. "So there are no human weapons that could hurt hi — um, vampires?" Demi just barely catches herself, but Sulpicia is not fooled. She gives Demi a pitying smile.

"A flamethrower would work, but a vampire could always run from you, or snap your neck before you got close enough. A bomb, or nuclear blast would guarantee the job was done, given that the vampire had no prior warning." Sulpicia shrugs. "You won't find anything in the Castle that would help you in escaping, just so you know."

Demi sneers at Sulpicia but doesn't deny that is her intent. Dora no longer looks like she wants to murder someone, but she is still silent and withdrawn as Sulpicia moves on.

"Some vampires are re-born into their new existences with extra abilities. It is rare, perhaps only one out of every fifty vampires is gifted, but those that are are very powerful. Aro is gifted, as is Marcus. Didyme was as well..." Sulpicia's voice trails off.

"Gifted how?" Demi prompts. She's thinking of Superman and x-ray vision.

"Aro, with a single touch, can read every thought you've ever had," Sulpicia boasts of her husband.

Demi's stomach drops and her mouth runs dry. _Every thought? Ever? I guess that explains how he knew all about me once he touched me, but to think...he has seen every one of my sexual fantasies! Oh god, I have thought terrible things! Nasty, horrible things that I would never want to actually happen to myself or anyone else. I've made Nazi jokes! Oh, dear Lord. How am I suppose to face him?_

Sulpicia doesn't give Demi much time to recover before revealing more. "Marcus sees how people are connected and how strongly, or weakly, one is bonded with another. He sees the ties between people and how to manipulate them."

That description doesn't put as much fear into Demi as the previous one; Marcus' power doesn't seem nearly as invasive as Aro's.

"And Didyme?" Demi prompts.

"Didyme was always surrounded by an aurora of happiness, and everybody, humans and vampires alike, were naturally drawn to her and were willingly to do almost anything for her." Demi's eyebrows almost disappear into her hairline. "They would practically worship at her feet," Sulpicia scoffs.

"Hmm," is all Demi says in response. _Obviously, I have big shoes to fill_.

"As I said, being gifted is not common, but those that are tend to band together in larger than normal covens. Hence, you have the Volturi Guard."

Sulpicia then goes into detail about the Guard and their use. Demi's main take-away is that the Guard seems even more talented than the main coven.

Not all sixty vampires ( _sixty!)_ on the Guard are talented, and there are ranks inside the Guard based on ability and value. The Guard is broken down into four main tiers, with only some variation in rank inside the actual levels. The first tier consists of the vampires the Volturi Coven find most useful and powerful. The first tier are the main defenders of the Coven, the elite of the elite. They are the ones to find transgressors, hunt them down, and exact justice. They are also the primary protectors of the Brothers.

The Wives rattle off the names of the vampires included in the first tier: Jane, Alec, Felix, Heidi, Chelsea, Renata, Claire and Demetri. Most of them go right into one ear and out the other, but Demi recognizes three of the names from last night. _Felix, Demetri, and Renata_. Finally, Demi can put a name to the faces of the men that kidnapped her.

The second tier is also considered in high regard, but their main role revolves around protecting the Wives of the Coven. It's also significantly smaller; the second tier is only made up of three vampires: Afton, Santiago, and Corin. Out of all of the vampires in the first and second tiers, only Felix and Santiago have no proven supernatural "gift", although both are massive and impressive in physical enforcement.

After that, the third and fourth tiers are mostly newly acquired vampires with no gift, or with gifts that have yet to prove themselves useful enough to gain any station of importance. One could tell who is above the other in rank based on the shade of their cloak; the closer to black (that only Aro, Caius, and Marcus wear) their shade, the higher up in the Guard they are.

"Three decades ago, there were only about 30 vampires on the Guard. But in the past twenty-five years, we have doubled our efforts of finding and turning potentially talented vampires. Sometimes, we are extremely lucky; several of our newest acquisitions are potentially our most powerful. Other times, the newborn is a disappointment, but we might still offer them a position."

"What happened twenty-five years ago?" Demi questions Sulpicia. Sulpicia's face freezes into an unnatural stone carving, devoid of any emotion.

"What?" Sulpicia hisses, her mood immediately darkening.

"What happened twenty-five years ago that made you double your protection?" Demi pushes.

Sulpicia's face turns into a sneer and Dora looks faintly uncomfortable. "You are too smart for your own good, human," Sulpicia mutters disapprovingly. Demi stares at her, waiting. "There was a…a coven that challenged our authority. Carlisle Cullen and his...family." Sulpicia snarls loudly.

"Carlisle Cullen?" This name is completely unfamiliar with Demi.

"A vampire who lives in America. He is the leader of the second largest coven in the world. He's unnatural, the whole lot of them are defective!" She At Sulpicia's words, Dora shakes her head back and forth, as if the idea is still completely unbelievable to her. "Traitors!" She hisses out.

Demi wants to know more and the Wives are more than willing to tell her all about the them. As the Wives describe the Cullen Coven, Demi is hooked. Carlisle Cullen use to reside in Volterra, and lived with the Volturi for two decades before moving to the "New World".

"But the entire time he lived with us, Aro over indulged him, and allowed him to practice his misguided beliefs," Sulpicia sneers.

"Misguided beliefs?" Demi parrots back.

"Animals. Carlisle, and his entire coven, do not drink from humans. They prey on animals."

"Wow," Demi breaths out in awe. This does not please the Wives and they scowl at her.

"Please," Sulpicia mutters, annoyed. "Their strange drinking habits have turned the whole coven into unstable, manic vampires who break the very fundamental principles of what it means to be one. They follow human customs, they live human lives, they befriend them! Completely ridiculous."

 _Funny_ , Demi muses. _Seems perfectly normal to me._

"You said they are the second biggest coven in the world?"

"Eight. Nine, if you count the half-blood," Dora tells her.

 _Half-blood?_ But instead she asks, "So the second largest vampire coven in the world is still 50 vampires less than the first largest? What's up with that? They can't honestly threaten you? Especially with all your talents and abilities."

"They have gifts as well. Powerful ones, that make many of our own gifts useless against them. And they have the respect, if not the attention, of lots of other covens and nomads. The Cullens, Carlisle in particular, are well connected." Sulpicia snorts. "For a long time, he was even friends with Aro!" She laughs at the absurdity.

"What kind of gifts?" Demi asks eagerly—too eagerly. Sulpicia's eyes narrow at her and Dora arches an eyebrow.

"They have a mind-reader," Dora begins carefully, keeping her red, calculating eyes on Demi. "Similar to Aro, accept he does not need contact to hear and he only knows the thoughts current in your mind. The empath is dangerous too, both with his ability to control emotions, and his fighting prowess. They have a psychic, graced with precognition. Their newest member is a mental shield, meaning any and all gifts that prey on the mind's weakness are useless against her. The half-blood is gifted as well, although her talent is neither offensive nor defensive, so she is not a threat to us in that way. They have another member, not technically gifted, but his size rivals Felix's, and we can only assume so does his strength."

Demi's sure her jaw dropped by the end of Dora's first sentence. The Wives had not gone into specific detail to what any of the Guards' gifts are, but Demi doesn't see how they can beat a line-up as impressive as the Cullens'. _A mind-reader, a psychic, and someone who can manipulate your emotions!_ Plus, it sounds like whatever the "shield" does is just as damaging to the Volturi as any of the other members. And having personally seen Felix's physical capacity, it definitely sounds like the Cullens' give the Volturi a run for their money.

 _And I think I just found my ticket out of here..._

"So you have some competition for the most talented coven award?" Demi asks cheekily.

Sulpicia scowls. Dora simply looks displeased with Demi's train of thought. "Yes, well, there is no need to worry. The Cullens will, in a few years, no longer exist. And we will take their most talented and strengthen our power even more."

Demi's eyebrows raise. She opens her mouth to ask her more, but Dora quickly swerves the conversation back to vampire history. Demi notices how Dora doesn't go into details about the original formation of the Guard, or of Didyme's death. In fact, it seems like she completely skips over any more of the Volturi's origin story and early years, as when Dora picks the story back up, the Volturi have already decimated the Egyptian and Romanian covens and established themselves as the rulers of the vampire kingdom.

Demi hangs on every word as Dora describes the devastation the reign of the immortal children brought. She is horrified by every aspect of the event; the mere thought of turning an innocent child into such a monster is revolting, but picturing an angel-faced and unassuming toddler stomping around and brutally killing anyone in its path is worse. Demi cannot decide how she feels upon hearing that all immortal children were hunted down and killed. There is both relief and extreme grief at the burning of these out-of-control creatures.

Demi is sick to her stomach when the Wives finally finish telling her the real-life horror story, but they don't give her a lot of time to process it before moving on to the next one: the southern newborn vampire wars.

"Newborns are what we call freshly turned vampires. The Newborn phase lasts for about a year. It is the time when vampires are at their most lustful and thirsty. Newborns are impulsive, irrational, uncontrollable, but above all else: strong. Vampires, as long as they remain active, have the same strength through-out their lives, but a vampire is never stronger than during their first year.

"We aren't exactly sure why vampires regress in strength after the first year. Some have speculated that newborns come into their existence with their old human blood fused into their new cells, and that no amount of drinking will ever build up enough blood in a vampire's system to rival the amount found in the tissue and muscle during that first year. For whatever reason, newborn vampires are most likely the strongest vampires in any area at any certain time.

"It is why they were used in the massive struggles for territory in South America. The wars also occurred in North America, mostly in Mexico, at times even reaching into Texas, but the majority of the wars happened much further South.

"An ambitious vampire would set his or her sights on a large piece of territory, usually occupied by another nomad or coven, and the best way to steal it for themselves was to turn a large number of humans, making an army, and release the newborns on the coven."

Dora stops, shaking her head, and does not continue.

"The carnage was unimaginable. You've seen pictures of mass graves from genocides?" Sulpicia prompts. Demi nods her head. "A battle field, and any town within 20 miles, after one newborn army fought another was ten times worse than any of those.

"Thousands of bonfires. Thousands of vampires being torn apart and thrown into the fires. And just as many of thousands of humans, killed for food or because they had seen or heard too much. It is impossible to know how many people died because of them, but it is safe to say that hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of humans perished, and thousands of vampires along with them.

"It took us years to end them all, but we did. The leaders of the covens, the ones who made the newborns and who fought each other for territory were all hunted down and killed for their crimes. It took time, but eventually, the one who started it all, the vampire who first came up with the idea, and was responsible for the wars, Benito, was found by us and punished justly.

"Many of the newborns who participated in the wars were given pardons if they admitted their wrongdoing and vowed to obey the law and the Volturi. It is the one time in our reign as peacekeepers and law enforcers that we did not punish those who so blatantly broke our laws and threatened our security.

"But you have to understand, they were simply doing what their instincts told them to do. Many of them had no idea of our laws of secrecy, or what they were fighting for. We may be strict, but after all of those we lost, we could not, as a species, afford to lose another three thousand vampires."

"Wait, three thousand?" Demi shrilly interrupts. "There were three thousand vampires fighting in the wars when you guys finally stopped them?"

"That is correct," Sulpicia replies.

Demi cannot wrap her head around the number.

"How—how many are there altogether? How many vampires are there in the world?"

"There is no way to tell. We do not require vampires to register with us, and there is no census. Anytime Aro meets a new vampire, he asks them about who turned them, and who they have met along their travels. It is hard, because vampires by nature are solitary creatures. Most never directly meet another vampire, and they constantly travel, never settling down, making it very hard to accurately keep track of them. At best guess, there are anywhere from eight to ten thousand."

"That's a lot!" Demi exclaims. She had not expected that number. She thought perhaps a thousand or so vampires. _But ten thousand? Ten thousand monsters roaming around city streets and killing people everywhere they go?_

"Please, my dear. There are more citizens of Volterra than there are vampires in the world. At the height of the Romanian and Egyptian rule, there were closer to twenty or thirty thousand vampires alive. Between that time and the wars, it is impossible to accurately know how many of them died."

Demi is silent after this. She's stunned. Shocked. Absolutely floored by everything she's been told.

"Perhaps," Dora chimes in after several minutes of silence, "we should shift our focus to what we do." She looks to Sulpicia for a response and the other woman nods her head in acceptance.

Dora looks back to Demi, and begins to tell her what the Wives specifically do and what their role is in the Coven. In the beginning, the Wives had been as integral in expanding the Volturi's power as their husbands had been. But now, the Wives' job is to keep the castle—which permanently houses over one hundred humans and vampires—running smoothly. _How traditional_.

The Wives deal a lot with the human servants, as opposed to their husbands, who focus only on the vampires in the Guard.

"We have about eighty servants at any given time. There are more than three hundred rooms and hallways, and they maintain the cleanliness. The girl who brought you food earlier, she is one such servant," Dora informs her.

"Then, of course, we have humans that do more administrative work. I believe you have already been acquainted with Charles?" Demi's mind flashes back to the grandfatherly looking man she made met the night before. He had greeted Demetri and Felix warmly as they dropped two dead bodies at his feet.

She nods her head at Sulpicia's question. "He takes care of the property and our human business front. There are several others who specialize in making sure everything that happens in this castle is legitimate according to human records."

"Human business front?" Demi questions.

"'Volturi Tour Guides'. We offer quality tours of the great city of Volterra to tourists." Demi remembers the group of people she had seen enter the castle's gates yesterday and the large elevator that Felix and Demetri had taken her to.

"They take a tour of this castle…" Demi begins.

"…and they never come out," Sulpicia finishes smugly. Nausea works its way through Demi's system again. She keeps remembering the screams of the young girl from yesterday and she can't imagine hearing the screams of sixty plus humans as they realize they are about to die.

"Yesterday, you had a human on demand," Demi says, trying not to think too much about what happened to her.

"Yes, while it is true that most of the coven feeds every two weeks when a tour comes through, we do also participate in the lucrative human trafficking business. We always keep several dozen humans on hand for emergencies or late night snacks. Sometimes they are rewards for the Guard if they please their masters. It also helps us protect the human servants from our thirst; we pride ourselves on very rarely accidentally killing one of them." Sulpicia says, haughtily.

Demi is overcome with a sudden urge to smash her pretty face into the ground. The violent urge is so strong, it physically pains her to keep her temper in check. Dora senses the hostility, and distracts Demi by bringing up another subject.

"Let us talk about your role, once you become a wife," Dora suggests. Demi's eyes slide to hers.

"We already mentioned how we contribute to running the coven by managing the staff and guards. But our main purpose is always to please our husbands," Dora tells Demi. Demi scoffs and rolls her eyes.

 _I swear I'm going to explode with all of this sexist bullshit! 'Please my husband'?_

"Fat chance of that happening," she spits out.

Dora gives her a small smile but otherwise ignores the outburst. "We support them. Being the rulers of an entire race is not an easy thing, and they look to us for comfort and submission."

 _Submission? Me, submit myself,_ willingly _, to Marcus?_ Again, Demi rolls her eyes. _No way in hell._

"Like BDSM?"

Dora and Sulpicia share a meaningful glance. "If that is what your husband requires of you," Dora says hesitantly, "then yes. But we are not referring to bedroom games. Whatever your husband asks of you, you should always do."

"I'm a fucking prisoner," Demi mutters discouragingly. As a defensive mechanism, she literally ignores everything Dora just said, in an attempt to not throw up.

"Yes, about that," Sulpicia draws her attention. "Now would be a good time to talk about our restrictions."

Dora sends a sharp glare Sulpicia's way; it is the first outward act of aggression Demi has seen from her toward the other woman.

"Restrictions?" Demi asks.

"She's exaggerating," Dora quickly jumps in. "Ignore her," she tells Demi dismissively. Sulpicia glowers at Dora but Dora determinedly ignores the icy stare.

"No, I am not," Sulpicia states, her gaze swiveling back to Demi. "Let me tell you something, dear. I will not be around the bush on this. Our husbands are paranoid—whether or not they are right to be so is another matter—but it does not change the fact that they are afraid of us being in danger.

"There is something you must understand about vampires: we do not change. I look the same today as I did almost three thousand years ago when I was turned. I will forever be in this state, and our mind and personalities are almost as frozen as our bodies. There are very few things that can change a vampire, and a mate is one of them. Either finding or losing a mate can irrevocably change a vampire.

"After Didyme's death, Marcus became incapacitated with grief. He turned into a shadow of his former self, his physical body only an empty shell. He became utterly disinterested in everything around him. Before her death, he was more active in ruling than even Caius was, but his passion left him with his mate's death.

"Aro and Caius saw what happened to their dear brother and friend after his wife was ripped away from him, and they realized how vulnerable they were to the same fate themselves. Even Aro, with all his enthusiasm and willpower, would barely be able to function if something happened to me. So they keep us protected at all times, especially when they are not near us, and their paranoia has indeed limited our freedom."

Dora growls at Sulpicia. "Stop it!" She hisses. "You'll get me in trouble!"

Sulpicia ignores her, keeping her attention focused on Demi.

"The last time we were allowed beyond the castle walls was twenty-five years ago, to deal with the Cullens. But, that was the first time we had been outside in one hundred and fifty years." Demi's eyes go wide. Dora is still loudly growling at Sulpicia, but she continues on.

"And if we wish to leave our chambers, we must have three guards with us. And only after we have express permission from our husbands."

"Hush!" Dora snarls at Sulpicia. Her voice is vicious as she rips into her. Demi instinctively flinches and leans away from her. "Are you insane? When Aro hears you talk like this—"

"He'll know I am only doing my job in teaching the girl," Sulpicia cuts in smoothly. "Don't worry, he'll surely tell Caius how good of a little _bitch_ you were, defending him." Sulpicia's tone turns bitter.

Demi looks back and forth between the two beautiful vampires, trying to figure out what she missed.

"I hope for both our sakes—for all of our sakes," Dora says, looking pointedly at Demi, "that your thoughts are pure, Sia." It's the first time Demi hears the moniker in use for the intimidating woman, and it reminds Demi of Marcus' remarks about her own name, and how it too belonged to Didyme. "Because if not, Corin will not leave our side for a decade!" Dora's eyes cut to the door as if she expects someone to come through any second now.

Demi raises her eyebrows at the new information. If Sulpicia is really as unhappy as she sounds, perhaps Demi does have some allies in this place after all. Dora's eyes come back to rest on Demi as she hears her heart pick up speed and smells the adrenaline rush through her body.

"Oh, look what you've done now!" Dora snaps at Sulpicia. "Stop thinking whatever it is you are thinking, dear," Dora tells her, not too unkindly. "You cannot even begin to fathom the relationships we have with our husbands. We love them and are completely devoted to them in all things. We will not be helping you to escape." Dora surmises Demi's scheme quickly and, just as fast, destroys her plans.

Demi frowns, disappointed. It seems that whatever argument the two wives had is now over, and Demi takes back control of the conversation.

"Fine then. You mentioned Corin, who is she?" Demi asks, remembering the name from the second tier group of vampires—those charged with protecting the Wives. Again, Dora shoots the door a frightful glance.

"She is one of our guards, and she is extremely gifted. Her specialty is in making people feel content and happy in the situation they are in. Simply put, she can make you satisfied with your life, even if you are in complete misery."

Ice runs through Demi's veins at Dora's description of Corin's power. Immediately, Demi realizes how much of a threat Corin is to her; _she could make me complacent under Marcus' control_. The last thing Demi wants is to find herself enjoying her life ( _could it be called life if one is a vampire_ , she wonders) with Marcus. Sulpicia senses her worried panic and tries to sooth her.

"Don't worry, dear. In the five hundred years Corin has been with us, Aro has authorized her to use her talent on us only a handful of times," Sulpicia tells her, shooting another glare at Dora as if to say 'stop getting the human worked up'. It's strange that Sulpicia is trying to protect her, since Sulpicia seems like the least friendly of the two, and she just got finished with a monologue criticizing her own lack of power.

"Corin's power comes with a drug like addiction, and Aro would never expose us to her power enough to build a habit on it. She only rarely uses it when we become restless. We have more to fear from Chelsea than Corin."

Demi pounces on the new name, demanding to know more.

"Chelsea is the key to the entire success of the Volturi," Sulpicia admits. "Vampires are territorial by nature. We don't play well with others, and especially not in such close quarters. It is simple vampire instinct to fight other nearby vampires, even if we consciously know them not to be threats. Normally, any coven bigger than three is doomed to fail because of squabbling between members.

"Chelsea can manipulate emotional ties between people. While Marcus can recognize them, and find the weakest ones in a coven, Chelsea is the one to either break the tie completely or strengthen it. She keeps all of the vampires tethered to each other, in order to limit internal fighting."

"So everybody is being held here against their will."

"No, no, dear. You misunderstand. All of the vampires on the Guard are here because they believe in what the Volturi stands for, of what we are doing. But, it is simply not natural to have sixty plus vampires in one coven. Chelsea allows us to all live together peacefully."

"But we should still fear her?" Demi prompts. Sulpicia pauses.

"We," Dora jumps in, speaking firmly and gesturing between herself and Sulpicia, "should not, nor do we." Dora looks pointedly at Sulpicia for a moment before returning her gaze to Demi. "But you should. Marcus will tolerate some resistance. He expects it, we all do. But he will not accept poor behavior from his wife, and if he feels like he has to, he'll allow both Chelsea and Corin to pull you under their influence.

"My guess is that he'll give you until your turn date to fight and cry and beg, but once you're a vampire, if he feels like you still have not accepted your place by his side, he'll have Chelsea help you."

"He can't do that!" Demi explodes. Sulpicia raises an eyebrow, and Dora stares at Demi impassively.

"He can. He is your husband."

"Not yet, he's not! And what the fuck does that have to do with anything? Just because I'm married to him doesn't mean he controls me!"

"That may be true where you come from," Dora concedes, "but here, our husbands dictate to us and we listen. Ignoring the fact that you are a human, and he is a vampire, and as such you could not fight him even if you wanted to, as a husband, it is not only his right, but also your duty as a wife to obey him."

"That is fucking crazy!" Demi rages, jumping from her seat and pacing in front of the women.

"Enough of that!" Sulpicia snaps at her, standing as well to grab the girl by the wrists and halt her movement. "Cursing, especially from one of the Wives, is not tolerated here. The only time you should say 'fuck' is when you are asking your husband to do it to you." Sulpicia's smile twists into a smirk.

Demi wrenches her hands out of Sulpicia's grasp, and it fuels her rage that she is only able to do so because Sulpicia allows her to.

"Fuck you!" Demi screams at her. "Fuck you! And fuck her!" Demi points at Dora. "Fuck your fucking husbands! Fuck vampires! Fuck the Volturi! Fuck, fuck, fuck everything!

"You can't do this! You can't do this to me! I won't obey Marcus. I won't live in some sick, twisted, abusive relationship! I won't become a vampire! And you two? Going on about how you love your husbands? Can't you see? You're as much as a prisoner as me! But you're also just as fucked up as your husbands are!"

Demi is just getting warmed up. She could have gone on like this forever, and both wives look so shocked at her words, that they would have allowed her to, except right at that moment, the door suddenly opens.

Demi whips her head around to stare at the figure filling most of the frame. Marcus' jaw is tight and his fists are clenched at his side. He's still wearing the black cloak that Demi now knows symbolizes his power, but he looks much more handsome than Demi remembered. Her breathing hitches as his angry red eyes stare straight into her.

"Come," Marcus says simply, ignoring Sulpicia and Dora, who quickly sit back down once they realize their husbands have not accompanied him. In fact, their shock at Demi's words are gone, replaced by disappointment. Demi rolls her eyes, both at the Wives dependency and Marcus' command.

Abruptly, Marcus turns on his heel and begins walking down the small hallway and to the door that leads out of Sulpicia and Aro's wing. Demi walks much more slowly, dragging her feet and trailing several feet behind Marcus. She can't decide if her speed is in an attempt to piss Marcus off more, of if she is terrified of what he might do to her once he gets her alone and is just trying to stall. _Probably both_.

Demi focuses on Marcus as he reaches the end of the hall, holding the door open so that Demi can exit the wing first. He shows no hint of impatience as he watches her walk the few feet down the hall to the door, but his left fist is still clenched.

As she walks out into the circular room that holds the doors splitting into the three wings, she sees three vampires waiting. She comes to a sudden halt as she takes in their appearance; all three wear the same shade of gray. She cannot say that it is a particularly dark shade of gray, but it is also clear that these vampires do not belong to one of the bottom tiers. The two men and one woman must be the guards that the Wives had told her about: Corin, Santiago, and Afton.

Marcus gives them no attention as he grabs Demi by the arm and pulls her the few short steps to the door that leads to his wing. The vampires do not verbally respond to Demi's sudden—and _human_ —appearance, only offering their master a slight bow of the head as they stare curiously at Demi.

Marcus does not let go of Demi once they are inside his wing. In fact, his pace picks up, so that Demi is running to keep up with him as he marches down the hall. His wing seems to be set up similarly to Aro and Sulpicia's; one long hallway, holding multiple doors on either side that branch into their own rooms.

Marcus is stalking towards the single door at the end of the hall, and when they reach it, the room it opens up to is anticlimactic. It is not beautiful, it is not grand. Demi supposes that it might have one time been considered those things, but not anymore. The dark purple paint is peeling on the walls. The large bed stands crooked against the back wall, the sheets torn into shreds. Wooden tables and chairs are flipped over, and thrown randomly across the room. It looks like a five year old had a temper tantrum and no one ever cleaned up the mess. Or perhaps a vampire was grieving for his mate, and never entered the room again.

Once inside, Marcus lets go of Demi, and she puts as much space between him and her as she can. Marcus ignores her, glancing around the room as if this is the first time he has seen it.

"This was—is—our room," Marcus says. His analytical eyes focus on the bed for some time before returning to Demi. "I'll have it fixed up tomorrow, and from then on this is where you will sleep until your change."

Demi wisely decides not to say anything. Marcus smiles ruefully.

"I could hear your tantrum on the other side of the castle."

"It was not a tantrum!" Demi protests.

"No? What would you call it then? It certainly sounded like one."

Demi doesn't respond. She decides to evade his gaze and change the subject.

"Where were you? When I was with the wives, what did you do?" She asks Marcus instead, peeking up at him from beneath her lashes.

Something about Demi's question amuses Marcus, and he smiles at her. "Already keeping track of where I am when I'm not with you," he says softly, a gleam in his eyes. "I've heard that modern women always want to know where their men are." Anger surges through Demi at his suggestion, but before she can yell at him, he answers her question. "I was in my office all day, with my brothers, discussing you."

"Me?" Demi asks curiously.

"Yes." Marcus lets out a breathy chuckle. "You are all the buzz around the castle. And you are also a big mystery. Then, of course, we had to discuss my plans regarding you." At this, Demi stiffens.

"And what are your plans?" She bites out behind clenched teeth, angry at the thought that she has no control over her life anymore. Marcus hears her hostility but does not address it.

"We marry in two days' time."

Demi feels like someone punched her in the gut; all of the air leaves her body in one single whoosh. She feels like she is drowning, and the only thing she manages to squeak out is: "What?"

"If it was up to just me, I would have married you today, but I was advised to give you a little more time to adjust to your new life," Marcus continues on, ignoring her pathetic gasping sounds as she struggles to find air again. "The exact date of your change is still up in the air, but I am thinking that I will change you in about two weeks. Again, I am hopping the time will help you settle into your role by my side."

Demi now wants to smash _Marcus'_ pretentious face against the wall. Her hands ball into fists at her side.

"I hate you," she spits out instead. Marcus looks briefly surprised by her outburst but then his eyes narrow into slits.

"Yes, I know. Your tie to me is thick and black, which means your resentment towards me is strong. However, your feelings are of little concern to me. In time, I am confident that you will learn to tolerate my presence."

It takes her a moment to remember what he means by 'ties'. _Oh_.

Demi has no response. "I want to shower," she says suddenly, looking down at the clothes she had been in for more than twenty-four hours. She feels absolutely disgusting and she is close to crying.

Marcus raises an eyebrow at her request but simply motions her towards a bathroom in the hall. She stomps inside and immediately turns around to shut and lock the door. She hears a deep chuckle from Marcus but he does not attempt to scold her or enter the room. She relaxes against the counter, letting out a large sigh.

 **AD FINEM**

When Demi exits the shower with a towel wrapped around her body, she looks at her old jeans and shirt lying on the ground and realizes she had brought no new clothes with her into the bathroom. She looks around the room for something else besides a towel to wear, and finds a stack of clothes on the counter.

Walking over, she sees an unopened tube of toothpaste and a still packaged blue toothbrush sitting beside the clothes. She is one hundred percent certain none of these things were in here when she first started her shower fifteen minutes ago.

Demi looks at the door and her heart sinks as she sees the door is no longer locked. There is only one explanation: Marcus had somehow come in during her shower. That is not the disturbing part to Demi; it is the fact that he had done it so quietly and quickly that she had absolutely no idea. He is like a ghost and the realization that Marcus could have easily moved the shower curtain out of the way and….

Demi stops her line of thought before she can work herself up again. She brushes her teeth for five minutes before she feels like they are clean again. Then she looks at the clothes Marcus had delivered for her, and her previous dread returns. These clothes are familiar; she had packed the flannel pajama pants and large loose fitting t-shirt herself the day before her trip began. Even the underwear offered (white cotton panties and bra) are from her suitcase. She quickly steps into the clothes, and steps outside of the bathroom.

She has to stifle a gasp when she sees Marcus standing in the middle of the hallway. His red eyes stare unwaveringly at her. Suddenly, he turns down the hall and back towards the disgruntled purple room. She follows him, questions on the tip of her tongue.

"Where did you get these clothes?" She demands to his back. He opens the door and steps to the side, allowing her to enter first. As soon as she is past the threshold she turns around to face him. He walks in and shuts the door gently.

"They are from your hotel room," Marcus says simply, barely glancing at her as he moves past her and further into the room. Demi's eyes narrow. She had hoped that he would drop the ball with regards to her personal effects; if the cleaning staff found her things in her room, but there was no sign that she was there, the authorities might be tipped off that she was missing and kidnapped. It was Plan A for getting out of here. And now, that plan seemed to be null and void.

"You retrieved them?" She tries to not sound too crushed. Marcus must have worked on fixing the room while Demi showered, because while the bed is still torn to shreds, there are new chairs and a wooden table set up in the middle of the floor. Marcus is sitting in one of the new black velvet chairs and observing Demi.

"No. I sent Felix and Demetri to fetch your things. They officially checked you out of the hotel as well. As of mid-morning today, you are now no longer residing in Volterra. Your parents will have no reason to believe any foul play happened to you, at least not in this city. Perhaps, on your way to the next city on your list."

Demi's stomach clenches and she feels like she is going to hurl again. She had been counting on her parent's intervention; once they didn't hear from their daughter after a few days, they were sure to contact the embassy and get the authorities involved. And since her things were still in her Volterra hotel room, it would be clear that the clues remained in this walled city. But, if Marcus had diverted the attention away from Volterra, Demi is as good as trapped. Forever.

She would become like the Wives; complacent under their husband's tyrannical and protective paranoia. She would never be allowed outside again.

Demi's throat constricts and tears well up in her eyes. That seems to be the only thing she has been doing as of late: crying. She hates it. It makes her look weak and it makes her feel weak and she hates it.

Marcus notes her frozen stance in the middle of the room with indifference. He thinks it's good that she begins realizing how finale her situation is. No need for the girl to have false hope. Those with false hope are often times the hardest to bend and break to the Volturi's will.

"Come sit," Marcus offers her, gesturing to a twin black chair next to him. Although she wants to be stubborn and refuse, she takes the seat without hesitation. Her legs had begun to shake.

"This is a good thing," Marcus tries to comfort her. "If your parent's became too much of a nuisance, as Aro predicted they would if their efforts were focused on Volterra, we would have to kill them. To tie up loose ends, and protect the secret," Marcus informs her.

Demi's shoulder sag at his words. Unwanted images of Marcus' biting into her mother's neck flash through Demi's head. _No_. She definitely does not want that. In an act of frustration, Demi's foot shoots out and hits the table placed in front of the chairs. Marcus frowns at her action. She does it again, even though it does very little to make her feel any better.

"Stop that," Marcus snaps at her. "Enough, Demi. It is time to accept your fate and move on."

Demi imagines that if she were already a vampire, she would have hissed at his words. Instead, she glares him.

"You want to turn me into the soulless red-eyed monster lookalike of your dead wife. You take away my freedom and life, and you threaten my family. And then you tell me to 'calm down'? To accept a fate filled with killings and blood and you? I hate you!" Demi screeches at him, tears coming now hard and fast down her face. She doesn't care. "I hate you all and I hope you burn in hell! The moment I get the chance, I'll kill you all mysel—"

Marcus jerks forward in his seat and captures Demi's chin in his hands. He pulls her face close to his, squeezing tightly on her jaw. She gasps out in pain.

"Your rant turns traitorous," he hisses at her. "I know you do not understand much of this coven yet, girl, but the fact that you are unwilling does not change that you are part of it now. You not only threaten to betray your own coven mates, you threaten the lives of the Volturi. We are the law. We punish those who even think of breaking our rules. Any more talk like this, and not even I can save you from punishment, human or vampire."

Marcus tugs her chin closer. They are now only inches apart.

"I am your soon to be husband. Lords Aro and Caius are your superiors. Their Wives are above you as well, little human. Until you can prove yourself a trustworthy member of this coven, you will find your residency here unpleasant. Show your loyalty to the cause and to us, and your existence will be quite fulfilling. I am telling you this for your own good, girl. Aro will not hesitate to snuff out this rebellious spirit of yours with frequent punishment."

Finally, Marcus lets go of her. She collapses back against the chair, her sobs reducing her into nothing but a curled up ball of wails. This goes on for a long time, an hour at least. Marcus sits stoic and silent through it all. He watches, interested, as her bonds and ties remain stubbornly the same black color. This human is incredibly headstrong, and it seems like she will need to experience the consequences of siding against the Volturi herself before she realizes that there truly is no purpose to hating or fighting him.

Finally though, Demi calms down. Her heart beat slows to only a slightly higher than average rate as her eyes dry up and her lungs finally take in a full breath of air. She feels utterly exhausted, but she does not want to sleep. She never wants to close her eyes again, doesn't think she could, knowing that monsters like this not only exist in the world, but are holding her captive indefinitely.

"Tell me more about her," she whispers to Marcus. Didyme, and her relationship with all of the Volturi, had been Demi's main question throughout the day. Even when learning about the history of vampires, and the specific history of the Volturi Coven and Guard, her mind often wandered back to the pale beautiful creature depicted in the painting. _Why did I look like her? How did she die? How did Marcus live, if the bond of a mate is as powerful as the Wives say?_

"What would you like to know?" Marcus keeps his tone light, but Demi senses an edge to it.

"Does it hurt to talk about her?" She asks him. Marcus looked taken aback and he blinks. Demi is surprised by his response; the Wives had told her that such human twitches and movements are not only unneeded for vampires, but also almost unheard of.

"No," Marcus draws out the word, as if unsure of the response. "I don't know," he admits with a heavy sigh. "I have not talked about her since—I mean, before last night of course." Marcus draws his eyebrows together. "It's strange; I never thought I would be able to even think her name again, let alone say it. But ever since your arrival…." Marcus mutters something too low for Demi to hear.

Finally, his red eyes focus back on her, his face once again a mask.

"No," he repeats. "It does not hurt. What do you want to know?"

"You met her in Greece?"

"I did. It was somewhere around 1200 BC, right on the cusp of the transition from the Mycenaean Age to the Dark Ages. Time was not so easy to keep track of back then, but I estimate I was already close to three hundred years old.

"I met Aro first. He approached me in the city and invited me to meet his coven. By this time, both the Romanian and Egyptian covens were already stable and in power of their respective areas, but while I was aware of their existence, I had never actually met them.

"I had made contact with several nomads and even some small covens, but Aro's coven was by far the most civilized and sophisticated I had ever encountered. I was at first charmed by their manners, impressed by their education, intrigued by their vision of the future. But what really got my attention was when Aro introduced his newly turned, little sister to me. I fell instantly."

Marcus' retells the story whimsically, and a faint smile touches his lips. Demi imagines that he is remembering the first time he set eyes on Didyme.

"Wait, what?" She interjects. "Didyme was Aro's sister?"

The Wives had not mentioned this. They had told her that Marcus, Caius, and Aro were not truly blood-related brothers, and that they only began calling each other this after they formed a friendship so deep there were no other words to describe their relationship. They had not mentioned that Didyme' was truly related to any of them, in fact, they did not mention Didyme much at all.

Marcus looks at Demi thoughtfully. "Lord Aro," he corrects. Demi bites her tongue. "And he did call you 'sweet sister'," he reminds her gently.

"I thought—I thought that was just their dynamic. I—I had no idea," Demi mutters as an excuse. _Jesus_ , she thinks. _It was bad enough having to fill the shoes of Didyme when she was just the wife of Marcus. But now Aro expects something from me as well?_

"How did she die?" Demi demands, no longer caring to hear the beginning of the story, only the end. At the question, Marcus tenses, and Demi can practically hear the metal jaw clench shut.

"She was murdered," Marcus says stiffly. Her jaw drops. She recalls the Wives' earlier description of Didyme: 'People practically worshiped at her feet'. If that is true, who would have killed her?

Demi can feel that she is turning down a precarious path, but then again... _curiosity killed the cat, satisfaction brought it back_.

"By who?"

Marcus does not answer for a long time. He is looking at Demi, but his eyes are very clearly focused on something else from another time. Demi tries to be patient, and waits for Marcus to break the silence.

"His name was Kelvin," Marcus says softly. "He had come to us under false pretenses of being a potential ally. This was only three hundred years after I first met Aro and joined the coven. By this time he had mated with Sulpicia, and we had already built the original castle structure here in Volterra. We had not yet challenged either the Romanians or Egyptians, and we had just begun to build our Guard, which at the time included only Renata and Chelsea.

"He said that he had been curious, when he heard about the small but growing coven in Tuscany with a weakness for the arts. He befriended us all. And not even days later, he threw my Didyme into the fires."

Marcus' voice hardens, but still remains distant.

"It was I who found her—but I was much too late. No one had heard her screams, and the room smelled of nothing but smoke and decay and death. Caius and Aro followed the sounds of my wails and found me gathering her ashes in my arms. We had no idea who could have done it, that is until Kelvin came into the room and he brushed himself against Aro.

"Aro saw it in his mind. He had lured Didyme to west side of the castle, which at that time was unoccupied and secluded from the rest of the castle. And as soon as he had her alone and in a place he was sure no one would be able to hear her scream, he killed her. Aro saw in his mind that this had been his plan all along; he had not been intrigued when he had heard of our power, he had been jealous. He wanted to have the life that we had and he thought the best way of getting it would be to destroy our coven by taking away the member who brought us the biggest amount of joy.

"But he was wrong. He succeeded in destroying me, it is true. That night, I fell into a deep dark hole and I have had no desire to come out of it ever since. But Aro, Caius, they stayed strong, more united than ever. They did not allow me to fulfill Kelvin's wish. They kept me alive, even when I begged for death, and they kept me focused on our plans. And not only did we kill Kelvin, but we managed to defeat both the Romanians and Egyptians and gain more power than anyone thought possible."

Demi waits for a few minutes after Marcus finished, unsure if he is going to add anything and continue the story. When his red eyes finally refocus on her, she decides that he is truly done.

"I am sorry," she tells him softly. And she is surprised that it is the truth. She _did_ feel sorry for him, for his loss, for his pain. She feels sorry for Didyme, and she imagines what terror must have passed through her doppelgänger as she realized her friend had betrayed her.

"Thank you," Marcus replies. "I can tell you mean that." Demi nods her head once as acknowledgment of his words. She tucks her knees up to her chest and looks away from Marcus, lost in her thoughts.

"That is the reason for the guards outside? To make sure no one touches the Wives again?"

"Yes."

"But who would? You guys are supposed to be the rulers of vampires, right? Why would someone try to kill the Wives?" Demi asks.

"There are those who chafe under our rule," Marcus says, and looks accusingly at Demi. She blushes. Oh, yes, she can certainly relate to that.

"Like the Cullens?" At their name, Marcus' eyes narrow.

"Not quite. The Cullens, for all their trouble, truly respect the law. They agree that the keeping the secret is the biggest concern for vampires. The tension between the two of our covens stems from…differences in lifestyle and beliefs."

 _Oh, yes. Animal drinkers._ Sulpicia's sharp words— _'_ defective _'_ and 'unstable _'_ —flash through Demi's head.

"And the fact that their power rivals yours," Demi reminds him. Marcus appraises Demi, not blinking at her words.

"I see the Wives did their job in teaching you," he says dryly. "The Cullens are not the reason why we have guards. There are others, both old and new, who do not like to live under regulations, even if these rules are the one thing keeping vampires safe."

Marcus' tone switches, his voice dropping as he mutters to himself. "Perhaps, if we had made our presence known before the advent of the nuclear weapon, we might have been able to live out in the open, no fear of humans. But humans now have weapons that could kill even the oldest and strongest vampire, so our secrecy is paramount."

Marcus' eyes settle back on her. He stands suddenly.

"It is late. You should get some rest. I have matters to attend to. The guards will collect you and bring you to the Wives tomorrow when you wake. The bedroom you used previously is next door to the bathroom."

And just like that, Marcus turns from her and leaves the room. The door remains open after his departure, so she watches as he moves quickly and quietly down the hall to the door leading out of the wing. She leans over in her chair to get a look into the hallway, and she catches a glimpse of Aro waiting just outside.

His eyes meet hers and he smiles. Before Demi can react, Marcus closes the door and Demi is staring at nothing but the empty walls of Marcus' quarters.

She eyes the ramshackle bed, but doesn't dawdle. She stands almost immediately after Marcus' departure and walks back to the plain white room that she woke up in. She is absolutely exhausted, and crawls into the bed, snuggling against the soft sheets. Despite her earlier thoughts, not even the knowledge of dozens of ancient, murderous, monsters can stop her from sleeping as soon as her head hits the pillow.

* * *

 **Words: 15,055**


	3. P1, Ch3: Preparations (Demi3)

**Part One, Chapter Three: Preparations (Demi POV # 3)**

 **P1. Ch. 3: Preparations (Demi3)**

* * *

Demi opens her eyes and immediately screams. Not even a foot from her are the red eyes of an unknown vampire. Quickly, she sits up and scrambles away from him, getting tangled up in the sheets and eventually running out of space on the bed. She falls off and hits the ground hard, her left hip and elbow taking most of the blow.

She blinks and then the vampire is standing at the end of the bed, staring intently at her. She clutches the bed sheets tightly to her chest and pants as she stares back, not daring to move or talk.

"Master Marcus sent me to wake you," the vampire finally addresses her.

"You are?" Demi squeaks out, trying to calm herself and slow her heart rate.

"Santiago. One of your guards."

 _Oh_. Demi takes another second to gather herself.

"I—I need a few minutes to get ready."

The vampire bows his head slightly. "Of course. There are clothes in the bathroom. I will wait in the hall."

Demi blinks and the vampire is gone. She has to swallow back another scream.

Demi takes her time getting up from the floor and moving into the bathroom. As promised, there are a stack of clothes laying on the counter, and these too are from Demi's suitcase. As she washes her face and teeth she wonders if she could sneak around Marcus' wing and maybe find her suitcase, or the bag she had with her when she was taken. Her suitcase would have her laptop, and in her bag she could find her cellphone. Either one would be helpful in escaping. But when she exits the bathroom into the hall, Santiago is there to greet her. She startles again but follows him quietly as he walks her out of Marcus' wing. _Damn it._

In the grand, marble, circular room that splits into the three wings, the other two guards are waiting. Demi glances from the floor to them, then back to the floor several times. They regard her silently but with interest.

Demi thinks Santiago will walk her the few small steps to Aro and Sulpicia's door, but instead, he guides her towards the elevators. To get there, she must pass the other guardsmen, and the two vampires step aside to give her and Santiago room, but they stand just close enough that she has to tuck her shoulders in to avoid touching them.

It's only when the elevator doors close and Santiago presses the button labeled 'R' that Demi gathers enough courage to speak.

"Where are you taking me?" She questions.

He doesn't move, staring straight ahead as he answers. "The doctor."

Demi's eyebrows push together. "What for?" She demands.

Again, Santiago keeps his eyes on the elevator doors as they move down several levels. "He'll take some blood samples from you," he informs her.

Her jaw drops. _What the..._ "Why?"

Santiago cocks his head to the side and his eyes finally meet hers. "Because Master ordered it so," he responds.

Demi reels back in shock, but before she can challenge him, the elevator doors open and Santiago seizes her by the arm and pulls her out. She gasps in pain, because his fingers overlap the bruises she has from her previous abuse. But he pays her little mind as he hauls her along. The new room is a large, rectangular area, with grey stone covering the floor, walls, and ceiling.

At their entrance, the dozen or so people milling around the room stop and stare at them. Demi breathes a sigh of relief when she realizes the people are human. They look curiously at the two as Santiago moves them through the space, but most of them go back to work within a few seconds.

Demi tries to gather as much information about her new environment as she can, but Santiago doesn't make it easy. He moves at a fast pace and weaves in and out of the servants as they clean, fold laundry and mill around.

The next thing Demi knows, Santiago is opening a discreet and unassuming door. He nudges her through and there to meet her is a man. A human man, _thank God_.

The man, dressed in black slacks and a white, button-up shirt, smiles wide at her and beckons her forward. "Hello, Miss Demi," he greets her.

Demi's stomach clenches as she takes in the room. It is very clearly a doctor's office. There's an exam table in the far corner of the room, and multiple cabinets hang along the wall.

Demi has yet to move from where Santiago nudged her. He still looms behind her, blocking the threshold.

"Will you need me?" He addresses his question to whom Demi can only assume is the doctor. The doctor keeps his easy smile, and Demi can tell now that he is actually quite young, perhaps only in his late thirties, and no older than earlier forties.

"No, I'm sure the two of us will be fine on our own. Won't we?" The doctor raises an eyebrow at Demi but she doesn't answer. His smile doesn't waver an inch.

The door closes shut behind her, leaving Demi alone with the man.

"My name is Dr. Chandler. All I need from you is a few vials of blood, and some samples of your hair and nails."

"Why?" Demi asks.

He keeps his fake smile. "Because Master Marcus has asked for it." He gestures to the padded exam table. "If you would just hop up, we can get this done very quickly."

He turns from her without waiting for a response. Demi bites her lip and thinks about her options. Dr. Chandler is going through the cabinets, pulling out trays and tools.

He doesn't even glance at her as he says: "If you would like, I can ask Santiago to enter."

Demi glares at his back but moves toward the exam table. She sits at the edge and watches as he first collects his utensils, placing them on a tray, and then washes his hands before donning a pair of white gloves and wheeling the tray towards her.

First, he collects some DNA from the inside of her cheek, clutching her jaw gently with his gloved hands as he swabs her gums with a Q-tip. He puts the sample in a clear plastic bag, zips it tight, and sloppily writes her name on a label. _Demi Harris._

"I need to take a few strands of your hair now," he tells her, drawing back her attention.

As he begins the process of individually plunking out twenty strands of hair, Demi takes her chance to ask him some questions.

"Why do the Volturi have a human doctor on retainer?" She barely finishes her question before he rips another one out and she flinches in pain.

"They have an awful lot of human servants living in the castle. These servants get sick, and injured just as much as any human does." He pauses as he gets another strand.

"How did you— _ow_!—come to work for them?" Demi asks through clenched teeth.

"My parents were servants," Dr. Chandler tells her lightly. "I was the result of their union—a coupling, of course, with the blessing of the Masters." This time, he grabs one while Demi is mid-eye roll.

"They sent you to medical school?" She grunts.

"They did," he confirms. "The Masters have provided me with the best life anyone could hope for. As a child, they sent me to the best private boarding schools in the world; the ultimate goal being for me to become a doctor. The previous doctor, the one here when I was born, was growing old and the Masters recognized the need to begin teaching a new one.

"There. All done." The doctor straightens and also places the hairs into a clear, plastic bag. Once again, he scratches her name on it with a black sharpie. Then, he pulls out a pair of clippers and begins to trim her fingernails.

"Seriously," Demi pushes, "what is the point of this?"

"I do not know." Dr. Chandler doesn't pause with his work as he answers her truthfully. "Master Marcus did not tell me and I did not ask."

Demi sulks for a second.

"How long have you been a doctor?"

"Oh, only about five years now. I finished my residency just a few weeks after my thirtieth birthday."

"And the other doctor? The one before you, where is he?"

Dr. Chandler collects her clippings into a baggie and places it on the tray beside the other ones. _Demi Harris_ , he scrawls again. Vaguely, she wonders if he should be writing it _Harris, Demi_ instead.

"I need to collect your blood now," he says while he ties off a tourniquet on her arm, completely avoiding her question. Demi's eyes look quickly to the door, to where she knows Santiago is standing just on the other side of it, and then focus back on Dr. Chandler.

"Is that safe?" She whispers. He looks confused momentarily before smiling.

"No need to whisper," he answers back jokingly. "They can hear you as well as if you just shouted right into their ear." He turns away from her only long enough to grab the disinfectant wipe.

"And you have nothing to worry about," he continues as he disinfects the area right below the tourniquet. "While it is true that young vampires have an almost uncontrollable bloodlust, older vampires generally have great control. And the Masters make sure all of their guards can govern themselves in the presence of blood. It's a point of pride, proof of how devoted the Guard are to the Masters."

Demi grimaces and flinches when Dr. Chandler inserts the needle, although she has to admit, she barely feels any pain as he takes her blood. _Huh. I'm in a castle full of vampires and it's the human stealing my plasma. Glad to know God still has his sense of humor._

Demi can't force herself to watch as the blood fills the clear vials, but the doctor fills up five vials before withdrawing the needle and very quickly pressing a white cotton ball into the crease of Demi's elbow. He guides her left hand to hold the cotton in place before taping it down.

"Finished!" He exclaims, throwing her a huge smile. "Do you feel okay? Any dizziness?" Demi shakes her head. "Okay then. You can leave, I've collected everything Master Marcus requested."

At his statement, the door opens and Santiago stands in the threshold, beckoning Demi to come. She gently jumps off the exam table and follows Santiago out of the room, throwing one last look at the doctor as she exits; he's organizing the vials into a rack to hold them.

Santiago doesn't grab her by the arm this time as he leads her back through the room, although he does keep his fast pace, forcing Demi to jog beside him. There are less people present now than before, but they still stare curiously at Demi as she waits beside Santiago for the elevator.

"What is this place?" She asks him, just as the doors open and they step in.

"This is the human servant's level of the castle," he replies stiffly, pressing the level 3. _Back to the Wives then_ , Demi decides. She looks questionably at the other options on the elevator. So far, she's only been on levels 3, 2, and R.

She points to the buttons. "What does the 'D' stand for?"

"The Dungeon," Santiago says bluntly. Demi's stomach curls into knots and she withdraws her hand. _Jesus Christ_. _Sometimes I forget that I'm living with people from the Dark Ages. Of course they would have a dungeon._ Demi stops asking any more questions, afraid what she might find out about the levels marked 'L' and '1'.

Just then, the doors open to reveal the 3rd floor, the two other vampires of the Wives' Guard still standing in the middle of the marble room. Neither of them have yet to say a word to Demi yet, and this trend continues as Santiago escorts her to the middle door, knocking only once.

Almost immediately, the door opens, revealing Sulpicia.

"Finally!" She snaps, grabbing Demi by the wrist, jerking her inside, and slamming the door shut in Santiago's face. "We have so much work to do!" She declares as she takes Demi back to her and Aro's bedroom.

"Wha?" Demi mutters disconcertedly. Sulpicia pushes her into the room and Demi stumbles, just barely catching herself before she face-plants. Sulpicia doesn't give her any time to recover before she's pulling her to the center of the room, where Dora stands beside a small, circular platform.

"Men," Sulpicia mutters disapprovingly as she manipulates Demi to face a floor-length mirror. "They give us one day to plan a wedding and then don't even have the courtesy of giving us a full day with the bride to be." She huffs.

And then Sulpicia's hands are tugging down Demi's black skirt—the skirt laid out for her on the counter, no doubt picked by Marcus. Before she can even attempt to make a grab at the waistband, Sulpicia has it off of Demi's body and thrown across the floor. Sulpicia's hands have already finished pulling Demi's shirt off by the time Demi processed the action.

Now she's standing on the small platform, half-naked and wearing her most embarrassingly plain underwear.

"Stand up straight," Sulpicia snaps at Demi, who's still shell-shocked by her position. Sulpicia grabs her shoulders and lifts them up and back. Then Dora is measuring Demi's chest, wrapping the tape measure around her without any warning. A lightbulb goes off in Demi's mind. _Shit. They're talking about a wedding dress._

Honestly, up until that point, Demi had forgotten what Marcus had decreed last night ( _'We marry in two days time'_ ), although how she had done so is a mystery even to her. But now Demi understands the Wives' frantic behavior and it makes her heart drop and her stomach churn. Demi stands silent and immobile as the Wives flutter around her, Sulpicia correcting her posture manually and Dora quickly taking her measurements.

"Skinny thing," Sulpicia mutters disapprovingly, once the pair have stepped back from Demi. She glares at them both and wraps her arms around herself to provide some cover from their scrutinizing eyes.

"She certainly doesn't have Didyme's curves," Dora agrees. "We'll have to make major alterations to the dress."

Demi's ears perk up.

"You already have a dress?" She asks.

"Weddings have changed a lot over the last three thousand years," Sulpicia says. "And every time they do, we like to re-do the ceremony, and marry our husbands again. So we have several of our old wedding dresses, that are now centuries old."

Sulpicia puckers her lips, still running her eyes up and down Demi's half-naked body.

"Didyme was not around to see the popularization of the white wedding dress and the Christian based ceremony, but when we renewed our commitment to our husbands this latest time, we also bought Didyme a dress. Obviously, the dress has never had any use or been worn, but it is Marcus' wish for you to wear it tomorrow."

And then Dora clucks her tongue disapprovingly. "But we have a lot of work to do."

"Then get the fuck to work and let me get dressed," Demi snaps at the both of them. Sulpicia hisses violently at her, jerking forward and snapping her teeth down threateningly, and Dora just snarls, but the two women finally move away from her.

Demi spots them again in the lounge area, except the tables and chairs are pushed aside to make room for a mannequin, holding a beautiful, grand, stark white wedding dress.

Demi's jaw literally drops when she sees it. _That's my dress?_ She hates to admit it, but a thrill rushes through her. _I want to wear that dress. That is one kick-ass dress._

But she keeps these thoughts to herself while she picks up her clothes from the ground and quickly gets dressed, covertly observing the activity surrounding the dress, Didyme's dress, _her_ dress. Dora is a blur, circling the dress too fast for Demi to catch. Sometimes she'll come into focus for a few seconds, but her hands are always fluttering around the dress at lightning speed. Sulpicia is lounging on one of moved couches, watching Dora work. When Demi is fully clothed again, she gives her a 'come hither' finger curl. Demi obeys, walking towards the couch but keeping her eyes on the dress.

"It's gorgeous," Demi breathes out while she sits down, unable to help herself.

"Isn't it?" Sulpicia agrees.

"How old is it?" Demi asks.

"Oh, only about seventy years. We renewed our vows sometime in the mid-twentieth century," Sulpicia supplies nonchalantly.

The dress doesn't look that old, neither in upkeep or style. It is a shockingly modern dress, considering the era in which it was made, and the being whom it was originally created for.

"Now, dear," Sulpicia says loudly, drawing Demi's attention away from the dress. "You learned a lot yesterday, but it is time for you to be trained."

"Trained?" Demi scoffs, bristling at the word. "On what?" She demands, already dreading the answer.

"How to be a wife." Sulpicia looks Demi up and down and purses her lips, displeased. "First thing: your posture." Sulpicia places her hands on Demi's shoulders again and forces her to straighten her back.

"This is how you shall sit." She withdraws her hands but then immediately barks out: "No!" and pushes Demi's shoulders back again. Demi had not even noticed that she had hunched over again until she felt Sulpicia correct her.

"When you sit beside the Masters, you must always have grace," Sulpicia says sternly. Demi barely stops herself from screaming 'Bite Me!' back at her. _Honestly, I wouldn't put it past her._

And thus began Demi's last day as an unmarried woman. It is full of the Wives' biting remarks and Demi's increasing dread. That morning, it seemed like to Demi, was intended to criticize everything she did. Sulpicia snapped at her for everything, from the way Demi sat, to the way she stood, to the way she stood up from sitting. Once Sulpicia seemed satisfied that Demi had somewhat better posture, she moved on to talking about other things.

"Now, when you greet your husband, you should always go to him," Sulpicia tells Demi, but her eyes are on Dora, who is still fiddling with the dress. "A kiss is what they prefer. It should be standard. This is not to initiate copulation, but to show him how much you missed him."

"And if I don't miss him?" Demi is bold enough to ask, internally gagging at the thought of "copulating" with Marcus ( _except, maybe it wouldn't be so bad? He's attractive enough_ — _What the fuck? No Demi! Stop thinking that!_ ). Sulpicia turns her head back to look at her.

"Pretend," Sulpicia says harshly. "As I told you yesterday, Marcus expects some hesitation. However, the longer you fight, the worse it will be for you. You will dislike much of what I tell you. If you are resigned to rebel, you must pick your battles wisely. Let me tell you, you will want to save your strength for something else." Sulpicia is still eyeing her, so Demi tries to keep her face neutral and tries to not reveal that her words have caused her to reconsider. "At this point, Marcus would be happy with a kiss to his cheek."

Demi doesn't say anything in response. The two turn their eyes to watch Dora work. Demi doesn't understand why Dora has spent all day buzzing around the dress. It looks exactly the same to Demi, yet Dora keeps rushing around it, her hands nothing but pale blurs as she pins and tucks the material.

"You will have a chance to practice this tonight," Sulpicia finally says, forcing Demi to focus back on her. "Afton says the Brothers will come to us today." Dora stops her work for the first time that morning. She looks up at Sulpicia, a large smile spreading across her face.

"Truly?" She breathes out. Sulpicia gives her own smile in return, nodding her head. Dora lets out a squeal of joy, as if unable to contain her excitement. She looks to Demi. "Your presence keeps giving," she says cryptically.

Demi draws her eyebrows together. "What?"

"It is no doubt Aro and Caius' fascination with your progress that brings them here," Sulpicia answers for her, Dora going back to her work, although this time while humming a joyful tune. Still seeing Demi's blank face, she continues. "We do not see our husbands daily, Demi. We are immortal. Time passes without us noticing. It is not uncommon for us to go weeks sitting in here, never once hearing from our husbands, despite the fact that only one or two floors separate us. We have not seen Aro and Caius since your first night here."

Demi's heart leaps into her throat. She's happy about this news. She won't have to see Marcus everyday. And without Aro there to constantly monitor her thoughts, she can scheme. _Weeks_. She would have weeks alone to plan her escape.

"I imagine, that for the first couple of years or so, you will hold all of Marcus' attention. Which means he will visit frequently, bringing the others along with him." Sulpicia gives Demi a smile, causing her to stiffen. "You have made us wives very happy."

Demi's mind is still hung up on her first sentence though. _Years_. The first couple of years she can expect regular interactions with Marcus. All the hope that bubbled in her earlier leaves her in a woosh. That means she has to escape before her turn then. She can't go another week, let alone years, next to Marcus.

Sulpicia moves on, telling her about how the wives pass the time, but Demi hears none of it. She lets her mind zone out as she watches Dora work. If Sulpicia notices, she allows Demi to get away with it. At one point, Sulpicia stops talking altogether, and goes to stand next to Dora as she works on the dress.

Her dress. _My wedding dress. Holy shit, I'm getting married tomorrow. All this abstract talk about what it means to be a wife, and tomorrow it's all going to become real._ Demi looks down at her hands. _Will there be a ring?_ She looks back to where Sulpicia and Dora stand. She can't see Dora's hands clearly, but sure enough, there on Sulpicia's left hand is a simple, gold wedding band. _I don't want a ring._

 _Will there be vows?_ Demi wonders next. The wives said this would be like a modern wedding, Christian based. _But God would never sanctify a vampire's wedding, would he? And I highly doubt the Volturi are going to file paperwork with the government to make this thing official. Then why bother? What's the point in all of this? It's not real. I won't recognize it, God won't recognize it, no institution would recognize it._

 _It will be a marriage in name only, and hold meaning only to Marcus. It is not binding_. This soothes her, allows her to calm down and not hyperventilate. _So I'll wear a ring. So they will officially consider me a 'Wife', but nothing will really change. I'll still be a prisoner, I'll still be me._

Eventually, Dora finishes, and both her and the dress disappear somewhere. Sulpicia comes back to sit on the couch beside Demi. The movements snap Demi out of her thoughts. She looks around the room, stretching her neck, and wonders what time it is. When Dora comes back into the room, Demi asks for some food.

It takes half-an-hour, during which Dora and Sulpicia speak in tones too low for Demi to hear. When there is a knock on the door, it's Demi who stands to get it. It's Demi who greets the servant on the other side. She takes the tray from her at the door, not wanting the human to have to enter the room and be near the vampires. She sits back down on the couch, ignoring Dora and Sulpicia's pointed looks of disgust, and digs into the meal. With a start, she realizes that it's the first thing she's eaten all day. Not good, especially since she had blood drawn earlier.

When Demi finishes, Sulpicia snatches at the empty tray and walks out of the room. Demi hears the door at the end of the hall open, and then the tray clatters against the floor or a wall. Sulpicia is back instantly, resuming her conversation with Dora. Demi watches them, not at all feeling left out. She has nothing to back this up, but she thinks the two of them are talking about the wedding. Or maybe Demi just can't help thinking about it and is projecting. She can't decide.

She doesn't know how long this continues. _Fucking vampires and their aversion to clocks._

Demi's only warning that the Brothers are coming is the sudden straightening of Sulpicia and Dora. Then, the door is opening, and the wives rush forward to greet their respective husband. For a second, all Demi can think of is an old-fashioned and cliched sitcom; of a husband walking through a door and saying, "Oh, honey, I'm home!"

But the wives' greeting of their mates is much less tame than anything allowed on television. They wrap their bodies around them, and give them kisses up and down their throats. _This is standard?_ Demi thinks, her eyes wide. To their credit, Aro and Caius seem just as happy to see their wives, returning their kisses and running their hands down their bodies.

It's the first time Demi has seen either of them up close in two days, and she's struck by their grace once again. But her eyes only glance their way, most of her attention is on Marcus. He is still waiting by the door, his eyes trained on Demi. Her heartbeat races.

Aro and Sulpicia break their embrace first, Sulpicia turning in her husband's arms to arch an eyebrow at Demi.

"Go to him," she says sharply, making Demi jump. "Greet him as I taught you." Aro has a curious tilt to his head as he watches Demi. Caius and Dora break apart as well.

 _Fucking great. All eyes on me then._ It adds a pressure to Demi and she feels herself question every move she makes as she stands up from the couch. She wonders if Sulpicia is displeased by her awkwardness. Apparently, all of her earlier training goes right out the window as she walks toward Marcus, too afraid to keep his gaze. And then she beats herself up; _why does it matter how I look to them? I don't give a shit about how they feel about me._

But she's nervous, and there are butterflies in her stomach when she finally reaches Marcus. She looks up at him, the air leaving her lungs as they stare at each other. His eyes, she notices instantly, are less vibrant than before, and much less red. In fact, they seem to dim with every second, until they're pitch black.

Feeling silly, she stretches up on her tippy toes and leans forward. When her lips touch Marcus' cheek, she swears she almost faints. His skin is cold yet smooth, and the texture fascinates Demi. She finds herself almost wanting to explore more of his face, and as she pulls back slightly, to kiss his other cheek, her eyes glance at his lips.

 _What would it feel like to kiss him?_ She wonders oddly, closing her eyes as she presses her lips against his cheek bone. She shakes the image away almost as soon as she conjures it, stepping back from him and looking at the ground.

"How innocent," Caius notes, sounding displeased by the display.

"It will do for now." His voice sends vibrations down her spine. He looks toward the wives. "Thank you," he tells them. He stretches an arm out, his hand landing on the small of Demi's back. She panics momentarily, and her eyes shoot up to his, worried he is going to press her against him, but he simply turns her, so that she is facing the room once more. Together, the two follow the other couples back towards the sitting lounge.

Caius sits in a chair, and Dora perches on the armrest, her body leaning into him. Aro and Sulpicia sit on the smaller love couch, and Demi sits stiffly beside Marcus on the other couch, trying to get her nausea under control. She doesn't notice that despite all her complaints and tantrums during the lesson, she's sitting straight, with her shoulders back, her neck soft and elegant, and her hands folded perfectly in her lap—just as Sulpicia demanded from her.

There is a silence as Aro holds out his hand and Sulpicia places hers in it. Demi's eyes shift to Caius and Dora for just a second, and she almost jumps out of her seat when she hears a loud crash. It takes her several seconds to find the source of the sound. Aro is now standing up, and Sulpicia lays on the ground, a hand gingerly touching her cheek. Demi squints her eyes, and can just barely make out what looks like cracks going down Sulpicia's jawline. But then, in front of her eyes, the cracks start to fade and repair themselves.

Sulpicia propels herself forward, and for a second Demi thinks she's going to attack Aro, but instead she lands on her knees and hands, bowing in front of him.

"I am sorry, Sir," she cries out. Demi turns to look at Marcus, but his face is blank as he watches the scene.

"You ungrateful..." his voice trails off, his eyes hard and murderous.

"I was just trying to explain to her-"

Aro cuts her off by grabbing her hair and violently jerking her head back. He pulls Sulpicia's face closer to his, and she cries out, twisting in his hold. His face is only centimeters from hers.

"You dare continue to lie to me?" He roars at her, his hand coming up to slap her again. Demi misses the movement, but the sound it makes is like thunder. Demi winces, her hands instinctively coming to cover her ears, and she stands up suddenly. She has half a mind to tell Aro to stop, but his eyes suddenly pivot to her and he lets out a snarl.

Marcus' hand at her wrist immediately jerks her back down, and he holds her close to him.

"Help her!" She demands him, forgetting the fact that she is his prisoner, or that all of them are vampires, or that Sulpicia has never been nice to her. All she knows in that instant is that Aro is hitting his own wife, quite violently, and that Demi can't watch it happen.

Marcus' face is hard and determined. "She has brought this upon herself," he whispers into her ear. Demi's eyes widen in disbelief, and they dart to Caius and Dora, but both are silent as well.

Aro grabs his wife again, his hand coming down to encircle her throat. He pulls her up, so that her knees just barely touch the floor and all of her weight is supported by his hand. He slaps her again, his hold keeping her upright, and then just as quickly, backhands her.

Demi gasps at the violence. Aro drops his wife to the floor, where she stays, motionless, as he continues to glower at her.

"I do not think I have seen you this angry at Sia in years, brother," Caius mummers from his seat, his hand caressing Dora's thigh. "What has she done this time?"

"Confess," Aro growls at her. "Tell Caius why I am upset with you."

Sulpicia straightens up and turns so that she faces Caius. She keeps her eyes glued to the ground.

"I talked ill of my husband, and of you, my Lord," Sulpicia says. Demi's eyes widen. _My Lord? She refers to Caius as 'my Lord'?_

Caius regards her for a moment, his eyes tight. His hand has stopped playing with Dora's thigh, and it rests there, still.

"What did you say?" He demands.

"I called you paranoid. I implied you treat me and Dora like prisoners, my Lord." Demi's pushes her eyebrows together as realization dawns on her. _That's what this is about? Her comments from yesterday?_ Demi remembers Dora's sharp tone toward Sulpicia at her remarks, but all of this simply because of that?

Caius hums lightly and Demi sees his hand tighten around Dora. Dora looks concerned; her teeth are gnawing nervously on her bottom lip. For a moment, Demi wants to chide her like she had been scolded all day; _now, now, Dora, that's not very appropriate for a wife, is it?_

"That is not all you did," Aro says harshly from behind her. At his words, Sulpicia's shoulders hunch further over.

"Yes, Master," Sulpicia affirms. She looks back to Caius. "I insulted your mate, when she spoke up for you, my Lord."

"Did you?" Caius asks indifferently. He looks to Dora now, and she meets his eye. "What did you say to her?"

"I called her a good little bitch, my Lord."

At her words, Caius throws his head back and laughs, causing Demi to jump in surprise. Dora offers her husband a small smile, like they are sharing an inside joke.

"That she is," Caius finally says. Sulpicia whimpers at his words.

"I am sorry, my Lord."

"Since she insulted you just as much as me, how would you prefer she be punished?" Aro asks Caius.

Caius appraises Aro first, then Sulpicia, still kneeling on the floor, before his eyes land on Demi. All her breath leaves her, and another smile plays at his lips. Caius glances to Marcus, who has remained silent and still for the entire exchange, before meeting Aro's eyes.

"I do enjoy every opportunity to see your wife's ass, Brother," Caius says jovially. "And then perhaps she can come make her apology to me?"

The words are too vague for Demi to understand, but everybody else seems to know what he means. Aro shrugs out of his black suit jacket, sits back down on the couch, and snaps his fingers once. Immediately, Sulpicia jumps up and goes to him. Demi's jaw drops as Sulpicia drapes herself over Aro's lap, face down, ass towards where Caius sits. Demi lets out a small noise of protest, shocked. _This isn't what it looks like. There's no way in hell that Aro…_

Aro looks up at her and smiles wide, his teeth showing. He strokes his wife's back gently. "Perhaps this punishment can serve two purposes," he mutters, his eyes staying on Demi. "Watch, dear sister. This is what happens when wives do not obey. You would be wise to learn from Sulpicia's mistakes."

And then his eyes land on his wife. Demi attempts to struggle out of Marcus' hold as Aro lifts up the hem of Sulpicia's dress. She's wearing no underwear. Sulpicia is still as a statue, and Demi's so focused on her, she misses Aro's movement. She knows it would have been too fast to see even if she had been paying attention to him. The sound of his palm on her backside is just as startling as when he slapped her.

Sulpicia jerks forward slightly. She lets out a hiss. Demi can see the cracks in the skin form. She stares, entranced. And then Aro delivers another slap and the cracks deepen, and splinter out. Demi's mouth runs dry. She can't believe what she's watching.

Aro picks up the speed and he delivers several more slaps in quick progression, so fast Demi cannot count them. Sulpicia lets out a genuine cry of pain, a real sob as she lays across his lap. When Aro stops for a moment, Demi gasps. Sulpicia's skin looks like broken china, like one more touch and it will completely shatter into nothingness. Marcus' arms are still holding her close to his side. She wants to elbow him in the ribs, take his hands off her body, and run. _This is what my future holds?_

Aro seems pleased with his work, and satisfied with the product. He pushes Sulpicia off of his lap and back onto the floor. He relaxes back against the couch and rests his ankle on his knee. The whole fiasco could not have taken any more than sixty seconds.

"Make your apologies to Caius," Aro says, his voice still hard as he cooly watches his wife. Sulpicia crawls to Caius, her dress falling back to cover her, but Demi catches one more view; the cracks are already healing.

As Sulpicia comes to rest in front of Caius, he has a wide smile on his face. "I haven't felt your sweet lips in too long," he says, his arm wrapped around his own wife.

Sulpicia does not look up. "Will you allow me to earn your forgiveness, my Lord?"

Caius' only response is to spread his knees wider. Demi watches, shocked, as Sulpicia leans forward and dutifully undos his slack's zipper. Her eyes dart to Aro, where he sits on the other couch, his own eyes pinned to the scene.

 _The Volturi Brothers are swingers. And they're misogynistic, abusive, domineering, assholes._

"Holy shit," Demi whispers unintentionally, shifting where she sits. Marcus squeezes her once, in warning. He keeps his eyes on Sulpicia even as he leans down to put his mouth by her ear.

"Do not interfere." His breath tickles her neck.

Demi finds it impossible to watch the scene anymore, as Sulpicia pulls out Caius' penis. She looks down and away, fidgeting next to Marcus. Suddenly, she wants to leave. Any strange fascination she had from before is gone. This has gotten too real for her and she feels uncomfortable watching the intimacy.

Aro notices almost immediately. "Watch, Miss Harris," his voice bites into her. She looks to him. "Do not act so shy, my dear. You've seen a cock before, I know it. You've pleasured a few of them yourself." At his words, Demi blushes hard and she imagines jumping over the table and strangling him. Aro jerks his head back to Sulpicia and Caius. "Watch."

As if to encourage her, Marcus cups her chin and forces her face forward. Demi finds herself in a real life porno. Sulpicia's lips are already around Caius as she takes him into her mouth, sucking and bobbing her head like a pro. Caius' lower body is relaxed in his seat, and his upper body is twisted toward where Dora sits, perched on the armrest. His hands explore her chest, gripping her breasts and tweaking her nipples, and Demi can see their tongues battling each other as they kiss.

Demi is rigid next to Marcus as they both watch. Demi eventually is able to focus on something off Caius' left shoulder; her eyes zone in on it, allowing her to feign paying attention, while at the same time letting her ignore the scene playing out in front of her. She can only guess for how long it continues. Neither Aro nor Marcus make a sound throughout it. Finally though, Caius turns away from his wife, entangles his hands in Sulpicia's hair, and pumps into her several times before finishing and relaxing fully back against the chair.

Demi can't help refocusing as Sulpicia pulls her mouth away and dutifully tucks Caius back into his pants. Sulpicia stays on her knees in front of Caius as he pets her head with a pleased smirk.

"With a mouth like that, how can I not forgive you?" Caius mutters lazily at the same time Marcus lets go of Demi's chin.

"Thank you, my Lord." With an exaggerated sigh, Caius removes his hand from her hair and shoos her away. Sulpicia turns and crawls back to where Aro sits, dropping down to place a kiss on his shoe. He looks down on his wife, his face not giving away any emotion.

"I am sorry, Master," Sulpicia whispers out again. Demi wants to scream and yell. _What kind of sick fuck makes his wife call him 'Master'?_ Demi knows the Volturi have antiquated and dated views on women and marriage—but this? This is on a whole new level.

Aro stays silent for another few minutes. The only sound in the room is Demi's ragged breathing. She looks to Dora and Caius, only to find that Dora is now settled nicely in Caius' lap, and Caius is groping his wife's breast while she plants kisses up and down his jaw.

"Do you forgive her, Dora?" Aro asks softly, his eyes not leaving his wife.

She breaks way from Caius only long enough to say: "Yes, my Lord. I forgive her." Then, Caius captures her mouth in his and the two act like a pair of teenagers.

"Marcus?" Aro questions. Demi can't help but flinch at his name. Marcus does not hesitate in his response.

"Let us be done with this and move on." He sounds bored, disinterested.

Aro nods his head once at his words. Sulpicia still has her forehead pressed against Aro's shoe. It reminds Demi of her first night, when Aro and Caius first saw her. Hadn't Aro dropped to his knees in front of her and kissed her boots? It had been strange then, but it is even stranger now, seeing this ritual. _Had Aro wanted forgiveness from his late sister? And if so, for what?_

Aro looks up then, like he hears her thoughts ( _But he didn't right? He has to be touching me!_ ). He stares at her for a moment and then smiles. Demi's shocked to find that it looks genuine. It still scares her, but she thinks his smile is an attempt to encourage her.

"And you, Demi?" At his words, Sulpicia pops up to her hands and knees and lets out a hiss. Without breaking eye-contact with Demi, he grabs the back of Sulpicia's neck and slams her face into the ground. The sound is like thunder and the floor vibrates with the collision. Demi can feel the waves move through her feet and they rattle her bones. Demi watches, shocked, as cracks appear on Sulpicia again, this time going across her entire face. "Do you forgive my wife?" Aro's words force Demi's eyes back to him.

Caius and Dora break away from their kiss, watching silently. Demi looks around the room rapidly, first from Aro, then to Caius and Dora, back to where Sulpicia is pushed against the ground, and finally, to Marcus. He has a small frown on her face as he holds her gaze for a few moments, before pointedly sliding his eyes back to Aro. Taking a big breath to steady herself, she follows suit.

Aro is waiting expectantly, his foot now replacing the hand on Sulpicia's neck, keeping her pressed against the floor. He arches an eyebrow at her.

"I—yes," Demi's voice shakes as she answers. Sulpicia does not make a sound as Aro nods once at her words and takes his foot off of her neck. She slowly and gracefully pulls herself up to her knees, not giving Demi a glance, as she settles in front of Aro. He grasps her chin firmly, forcing her to look up at him.

"And me?" He asks lightly, although Demi can sense the anger still lurking right beneath his mask. "Should I forgive you so easily?" He runs his thumb across her lips absentmindedly. "Perhaps I should show you how I treat my prisoners, hmm?" Aro's hand on Sulpicia's jaw prevents her from shaking her head, but Demi can see the tension in her neck as she wants to. Aro has a small, satisfied smirk on his lips when he leans forward and whispers something into Sulpicia's ear.

Demi can't hear it, he says it softly, and she is too far away, but across the room, Dora noticeably stiffens and a small gasp escapes her lips. Caius tweaks her nipple in response, as if to hush her. Sulpicia's whole body seems to be trembling when Aro pulls away.

"No, Master," is all Sulpicia says in response to his secret question. Demi can hear the fear—the real, honest fear—in Sulpicia's voice as she looks at her husband. Aro seems to expect this answer and he smiles again. Demi can't decide on the intent behind the toothy grin.

"Then I guess I shall be content in the punishment so far." He releases her chin, but she doesn't drop her gaze from him. Sighing loudly and scooting back in his seat, he pats his lap once. "Come, child, you are forgiven."

And just like that, Sulpicia stands for only a second before settling herself on Aro's thighs, sitting upright this time. She gives him a smile and they share a kiss. Just like that, all the tension in the room leaves. Demi looks around, only to find Dora smiling and Caius looking pleased. _She's forgiven_ , Demi accepts Aro's words as truth. _Honestly, truly forgiven_. And Sulpicia seems to have no qualms about cozying up to her husband, the man who just beat her and abused her in front of her coven mates. Demi wonders how often Dora or Sulpicia are punished. The routine, the ritual, it all feels well rehearsed to Demi. _They don't think it strange at all,_ she realizes as she watches Aro and Sulpicia. _It is completely normal for this type of interaction to occur._ It sets Demi's blood running cold.

 _I have to get the fuck out of here_ , she thinks firmly as Aro and Sulpicia break from their make-up kiss. _I can't stay here. Would Marcus really make me do that?_ She wonders, sneaking a glance at him. He too is staring at Aro and Sulpicia, his jaw tight. _Would he make me...pleasure—service?—Aro and Caius if I made one off hand comment?_ Demi doesn't ever want to risk finding out. _Escape. Survive._ She settles on this in an instant.

"I love you," Sulpicia mutters contently, her head nustled in the crook of Aro's neck. Demi wants to scream at the woman because she can tell how truthful her statement is. _He just slapped you, spanked you, made you sexually please his brother, and then threatened you! What the hell is there to love in him?_ She fumes silently by Marcus' side. "Ad finem," Sulpicia says, her voice louder this time.

Immediately in response, the four other vampires in the room echo her words back to her: "Ad finem!" They cry. Demi can feel Marcus' chest rumble as he says the words. _What is that? Latin? Greek? Italian?_

As she ponders this, Aro's eyes come to rest on her. She can feel the hairs on the back of her neck stiffen, and like a fire, goosebumps spread down her arms. "You did not explain to her." It is not a question. Sulpicia looks at Demi. She knows she shouldn't be, but Demi is surprised by the hostility she sees in Sulpicia's stare.

"We thought it best it came from the Brothers," Sulpicia responds. The eyes of the other vampires land back on Demi. There is a lull for a moment.

"Ad finem," Marcus begins, making Demi jump. "Is Latin. 'To the end'. It is a promise, a vow, that we make to each other. To the end of our lives, our coven, the Volturi itself, we will stand together. Until we are all dead." _Now there's an interesting idea_ , Demi thinks cheekily. "You will take this vow as well, tomorrow, and you will live this promise every day." Demi purses her lips but doesn't correct him.

"I still think she should wait," Caius mutters disapprovingly from the side. "She says the words and she is officially part of this coven. It's preposterous, to have a human join us."

Marcus glares at Caius and lifts his chin, as if challenging him. "Sulpicia and Dora said the words when they became our wives." Demi takes note of his choice of words: 'our'. When they became _our_ wives. _Plural possession._ She doesn't want to think about what this means for her. "So will she." Marcus' tone is strong, absolute. His chest rumbles, and God help her but she finds it unbelievably sexy. _Damn it._ There's that call again, the one he talked about, the one he practically taunted her with. Her body responds to him, even as her mind repels everything he does.

While Demi hears no room for questioning in Marcus' voice, Caius continues with his point. "They were already vampires."

"She will be my wife, Caius," he growls back at him. Demi can hear Marcus' teeth snap down together. She can feel his body stiffen next to him, his shoulders roll back. "She will say the words. She will be part of this coven. And she will remain human for as long as it pleases me." _Pleases me. Everything is about him. God forbid anyone says 'Hey, let's ask Demi how she feels about the issue'._ Surprisingly, she sides with Caius; she doesn't want to say the words. She doesn't want to be part of this... _coven, family, group of killers, whatever the fuck they call themselves._

Caius growls back, his face twisting into a sneer and his body leaning forward in his seat, like he might attack.

"Calm, Caius," Aro chimes in softly. He appears concerned—sad, even—as he looks at the two of them. "We can, of course, allow Marcus this one thing? After everything?" His statement hangs in the air, and after another tense moment, Caius lets out a huff and relaxes against the chair. His fingers drum against the armrest and he continues to scowl at Marcus.

"Our pity will only last so long, Marcus." In response, Marcus lets out another fierce snarl. The sound vibrates Demi's bone. She can't help her response—it is immediate, instinctual. At the sound of her soulless captor snarling in anger, Demi lets out a small moan.

In a room filled with different beings, with humans, the sound would have gone unnoticed, as it is soft, no louder than an intake of breath. But the mythical creatures in the room have no problem discerning the small sound, and she once again captures the attention of the room.

Marcus snaps his head back to stare at her, bewildered, his eyes wider than her own. Immediately, Demi's hand comes up to cover her mouth as she looks at him in horror. _What the hell was that?_

Marcus' dark eyes are unflinching as a blush spreads across Demi's cheeks. From the other couch, Aro lets out a gleeful laugh. Demi wants to drop her her face into her hands and hide in them forever. She cannot believe Marcus—just made her moan. _Moan!_ _Holy shit, what the fuck is wrong with me?_

"More evidence for Marcus," Demi hears Aro say tauntingly, though she can't bring herself to look at him. She hears Caius growl and then he mumbles something in response, but she doesn't catch it as Marcus' arms wrap around her. She tries to scamper away, bringing her hands up to push at his chest, but it does her little good. Marcus pulls her closer into his body. Her thighs touch his, her chin rests on the top of his head as he brings his nose down to her neck and collarbone. His arms around her are not enough to stop her from feeling unbalanced. In a desperate need to stay upright, she grips his biceps, hating how she clings to him.

His arms loosen, becoming less restraining and his hands stroke her back, rubbing in small, tight circles. Goosebumps rise up everywhere along her body. Without his arms around her waist to keep her from falling down, she is forced to hold onto him tighter. The last thing she wants is to lose her balance and end up on laying the couch, face-up, Marcus above her.

She can't see or hear any of the others any more. Her heart is pounding in her ears. Marcus' cold hands caress her neck, making her tremble. She knows it's wrong, God does she know it's wrong, but his hands feel good against her body. She can feel her stomach start to tighten, the beginning sign that she's getting turned on.

 _Fuck!_ She screams in her mind, gasping as his cold fingertips trace patterns on her arms. _Why does this feel good? I hate him! I hate him, I hate him, I hate him…._

Suddenly, he stills, his sniffing pausing. He pulls away from her slightly, looking down at her elbow, where the small cotton ball is held over her needle puncture with a piece of tape. His fingers play with the edge, where the tape meets her skin. She winces and tries to jerk away when he pulls some of the adhesive off her skin.

The reminder of today's earlier events seems to snap him back to his usual cold, distant self. He is frowning as he continues to look at it, but something in his expression is vulnerable in a surprising way to Demi.

"You had them take my blood," Demi says slowly in explanation, trying to see his eyes through his long lashes. Marcus' lips twitch, but the response comes from across the room.

"You have me to blame for that," Caius says lazily, his eyes sliding away from Dora to land on Demi. At his words, Marcus straightens away from her, turning forward in his seat, wiping his face of any emotion. She's glad for the distraction away from her earlier wanton moan. Demi looks to Caius, who gives her a threatening smile. "For research."

"Research?" Demi parrots back, her pitch higher than she intended.

"My brothers believe you to be some type of miracle," Caius laughs ironically. Beside her, Marcus' chest rumbles in anger. "I, however, am a man of science. DNA, evolution; I believe they are the key to unraveling your origins."

' _Unraveling your origins'_ , Demi repeats the phrase. _What a strange way to talk about my likeness to a long-dead vampire queen._ But Demi cannot deny that she is intrigued by Caius' statement. This is something she can get behind: finding out how she looks like Demi, and using actual logic to do so. Science, yes, science she believes in.

As if sensing her interest, Caius straightens a little in his seat and leans forward. For once, his eyes do not hold contempt for her or a scary glint of madness. He genuinely wants to talk to her and his coven about this topic.

"There are several options, as I see it," he begins seriously. Aro's eyes switch between him and Demi as he settles in his seat. Demi gets the impression that he has already heard this theory before. Nonetheless, the other wives shift their attention to Caius, listening to his words almost as carefully as Demi does. She doesn't glance at Marcus.

"The crux of all of them, however, is the idea of natural selection. I assume, as a girl of the 21st century, you are familiar with Darwin's work?" At Demi's nod, Caius continues. She can feel his excitement growing. "Somehow, through evolutionary principles, you have the exact same DNA sequence as Didyme did, when she was human."

Demi recoils. "That's impossible," she says firmly. Caius' eyes narrow, a touch of coldness creeping back into his mood.

"More impossible than vampires?" He teases her. A faint smile, then: "Or being magically reincarnated, with her memories and personality trapped in your subconscious somewhere?"

Demi startles and Marcus lets out another snarl.

"You mock too much, Brother," Marcus spits out in distaste.

"On the contrary, Brother," Caius hisses with equal venom, "I am simply offering Demi a different perspective. One that, at first, seems unlikely, but no more so than her very situation." Caius' eyes settle back on her.

"The odds of me and her sharing the exact same genetic code..." Demi begins, trying to defend her earlier statement.

"Are very small," Caius finishes for her. "Improbable, but not impossible. Especially when considering her DNA is over 3,000 years old. Enough time, in theory, for billions of other sequences to be made. Didyme's code was proven to be successful. It would make sense that her traits would be naturally selected to continue on. Crossing-over, mutations, hundreds of generations exchanging genes, but eventually, the code has to repeat. DNA is not infinite. It was going to happen eventually. Had Didyme not become a vampire, no one would have noticed the recurrence."

"So why do you need my blood?" Demi asks. _Besides, of course, the fact that you're a vampire._

"To look at your DNA, it's structure and code. To my knowledge, there is nothing left of Didyme's DNA to test it against, but, in the case that we can ever find something…." Caius' eyes briefly shift to Marcus, but if Marcus acknowledges Caius' words, Demi does not notice it.

She takes a steadying breath. "You said there were several options."

"Similar to the first, except that you are a direct descendant of her line. It would increase the probability."

Immediately, Demi's eyes dart to Aro, to Didyme's brother, to her only known kin. He meets her gaze expectantly. "Is that possible?" She demands.

"I don't know," Aro admits. From the corner of her eye, she can see Caius smile smugly. "I cannot remember if we had other siblings at the time of our change. Or even who our parents were. Caius wants to send a research team to Scotland, to see if they can find any records of your ancestors that might point us in the right direction."

Demi opens her mouth to question how he knows that she's Scottish, but she stops herself in time. _Oh. Mind-reading_. Demi mulls over their plan. She doubts anything will turn up. Honestly, she doesn't even know what percentage of her is Scottish. Her understanding is that her family has been in the United States for a long time, long enough to no longer keep track of who is what and where everyone came from.

Still, she looks to Caius. "If you find anything, will you tell me?" She has to bite the inside of her lip to keep herself from saying anything else. Part of her wants to scream at the top of her lungs. She hates that she's asking anything of these monsters. She hates to give them any more power or leverage than they already have. But she can't deny her curiosity.

Caius' smirk is large enough to make her regret her question. "Of course, sister. There are no secrets in this coven." His words make her stomach churn. _You are not part of this coven_ , she reminds herself. _You never will be, no matter what they make you say or do._

"You will find nothing," Marcus' says angrily, lifting his chin toward Caius. "It is a waste of our time and resources. I would think you would see this."

Caius opens his mouth to say something, but it is Aro who speaks first, coming to his defense. "Come, Marcus," Aro cautions. "If the team finds nothing, it strengthens your case. And if his team can, somehow, connect Demi's line with Didyme's, it still strengthens your case."

"How so?" Marcus demands.

"I tend to favor both of your arguments," Aro admits. "But, unlike you two, I do not see them as mutually exclusive. Both can exist. If Caius theorizes that Demi shares Didyme's genetic code, it does not automatically disprove that she was sent here for you. What is science but our attempts to understand and explain those divine things which we cannot see?"

Both Caius and Marcus are quiet after he counsels them, each grumbling and trying to find a way around his logic. Demi can see now why Aro is the head face of the Volturi. She imagines that this was how they use to operate: Caius offering one side, Marcus the contrast, and Aro in the middle, trying to find a compromise. Thinking about how the Volturi talk about Marcus after Didyme's death, about how he barely lived, she wonders if it's strange for Aro and Caius, now that Marcus seems to be active again. How long has it been since Marcus challenged Caius? How long since Aro has had to balance between two opposite arguments?

"I bet we could guess which one you prefer, couldn't we, Demi?" Aro offers her with a smile. Demi's only response is a glare. Aro 'tsks' at her, giving a mock pout.

Marcus' hand is suddenly on the nape of her neck, holding her still. She gasps, trying to wiggle away. "Aro asked you a question. You will respond," Marcus commands her, his voice hard. Demi tries to elbow him, but when she makes contact with his side, she lets out a squeal of pain when she hits her funny bone. "Now, girl!" He snaps, unfazed.

Gasping through the pain: "Neither of them!" She manages to squeak out. Marcus growls again and his fingers squeeze her neck in warning.

Suddenly, she is transported back in time, to this same couch and room, only two nights earlier. _Marcus' hand around her neck, his blood red eyes branding her. Marcus' icy breath against her face face. His hissed words. His hands tightening. I can't breathe! Marcus not subdued by her apology. Again, he demands. His lips pulling back from his teeth. Get away from me! She can't escape. Please! She begs. His teeth hovering over her arteries._

"Address him properly." Marcus' voice snaps her back to the present. She is shaking. Her flashback feels so real, like it is happening again. She blinks several times, her fear evening out. _It's not happening now_ , she tells herself. Anger replaces the fear. She wants to scoff at Marcus' words, but his hand is still on the back of her neck, his cold fingers a constant reminder of how easily he could kill her.

"Neither of them, Lord Aro." As soon as the words are out, Marcus' hand is gone from her. And as soon as Marcus' hand is gone from her, she regrets saying the words, of cowering and giving into him so easily. Furious, more at herself than Marcus, she turns on him, pounding her fists against his side and chest, her previous trauma adding to her rage.

"I fucking hate you!" She screams at him, consequences be damned.

A thin, threatening smile crosses Marcus' face. He makes no move to restrain her or gives even the slightest of reactions to her punches. He turns his face down to look at her. "Not as much as you wish you did." And he raises one of his eyebrows, challenging her to deny it.

She can't. Her moan from earlier proved that she could no longer contest that not _all_ of her feelings towards Marcus are negative. Despite their truth, his words only enrage her further. Her wrists are already aching from hitting his marble body, but she continues her pointless assault. She doesn't bother hurling more insults his way, scared of how he will twist her words. _I hate him_ , she tells herself firmly. _No matter what my body does without my consent, it will not change the fact that I hate him. I will always hate him_ , she pledges.

Marcus sits silently, his smile growing for every punch that becomes weaker and weaker. After a few seconds, Demi has to stop herself, as she can no longer push the pain from her mind. Withdrawing her hands, she finds she can barely uncurl her fists. Her fingers are bright red and swollen. She knows that by later today, she will have bruises here that match the ones on her arms. She takes in giant gulps of air to try and calm herself, as she rotates her wrists and tries to stretch the pain away.

"Perhaps," Aro's voice rings clearly in the still air. Demi attempts to quiet her breathing. She can't help but feel a little embarrassed by her show. She imagines that to the vampires in the room, she looks like a child throwing a temper tantrum. Her anger increases, even as shame overtakes her body, while she struggles with the idea that that is all she is to these creatures: a child. A child who is powerless in their hands, easy to control and no real threat at all. Her bottom lip trembles. "Demi would benefit from a visit with Chelsea."

At his words, Demi brings her head up to look at Aro, her anger and humiliation leaving her in an instant, only to be replaced by cold fear. Her jaw drops. _Chelsea: the one who will strengthen my bonds to them. The one who will steal my family from me._

But more surprising that Aro's words, is Marcus' response. He whips his head around to look at his brother, his eyes, already a dark red, going black in an instant. "No!" He snarls out loudly, his harsh command echoing in the room for several moments afterward. Demi has to cover her ears. She misses the movement, but suddenly, Marcus is on his feet, and he takes a step sideways, so that he stands directly in front of Demi, blocking her from Aro.

She peers around his legs. Aro looks surprised. _That's an understatement. He is more than surprised, he's floored._ He looks shaken, his mouth agape as he stares at Marcus with... _is that fear_? A matching look of disbelief twists Sulpicia's face. Demi glaces to Caius and Dora. Dora wears a strong frown, but Caius' face is devoid of any emotion, his eyes trained squarely on Marcus' profile. By the time Demi looks back to Aro, his shock has been replaced by indifference.

"No?" Aro asks respectfully, his tone carefully controlled.

Demi wishes she could see Marcus' face, to see if his eyes have lightened or his expression softened. By the tension evident in his legs alone, she doubts either have occurred.

"I know what it is like to be under Chelsea's power, Brother." Marcus says the words softly, forcing Demi to drop her hands from ears and strain forward to hear them. Her cheek is almost touching his thigh as she tries to peer up at his face. He pauses, and Demi can see Aro's eyes glued to him. A strange emotion, one she cannot name, crosses Aro's face. "I was under it for more than a thousand years. Corin's too," Marcus adds, his voice so low, it's scary. "I do not blame you, Brother, nor you, Caius, for ordering this. I knew it was the only way for me to survive."

Still without looking at Demi, one of his hands reach around his back and drops onto her head, stilling her from shifting any more. His thumb makes small circles in her hair. She wants to push away from him, feeling like a dog, but she doesn't dare upset him right now.

"That life, well, it can barely be called an existence. The girl, as you told me once, is simply frightened. It took you—" Demi feels Marcus' head turn to Caius, "—a long time to train Athenodora." His gaze travels back to Aro. "And it took you even longer with Sulpicia. Eventually, she will learn her place here, she will realize there is no point to her dramatics, and she'll stop them. I want a wife, Brothers, not a ghost."

 _Not a ghost_ , his words echo in her mind. _But I am_ , she wants to protest. _That's what I am to you. A ghost of your wife._ But Demi not only keeps silent, she keeps absolutely still. She almost can't believe it. Marcus— _Marcus!_ —is protecting her, defending her, standing up to Aro for her. Marcus is saving her from Chelsea and Corin's powers. She can't help but let out a sigh of relief in the quiet after his speech.

Aro is the first to recover. "Very well then, Brother. I hope you know I mean no harm. Demi will, of course, always be yours to decide how to treat. Her punishments are always under your discretion."

There is more silence. Marcus' hand has not stopped petting her head or playing with her hair. Her eyes close without her permission, her body humming at his touch. Finally, after several minutes, Caius speaks.

"I will tell you this once, Marcus, so listen closely." Demi startles, confused by the contrast of Caius' rough words, yet soft tone. She tries to turn her head toward his side of the room, to get a glimpse of his face to help her decide his true feelings, but Marcus' hand keeps her head still. "This girl, for all her trouble and willfulness, has been the best thing to happen to this coven in more than two thousand years." Demi can't help but startle as she hears Caius' confession. Her heart beats wildly in her chest. "I have missed you more than I feel comfortable admitting. And if she makes you happy, then I promise that you will always have her, in whatever way you wish. She is yours, Marcus, do not doubt that."

Marcus hums in response.

"Ad finem," Aro follows up.

Then, so loudly that it makes Demi jump, the others cry it back to him, just as they did before. "Ad finem!"

Demi cannot find the courage to speak a word against what Aro and Caius just decreed. But Caius' words pound in her ears. _She is yours. She is yours._ Then, Marcus' words from two nights ago join the chorus: _I will keep her. She is yours. I will keep her. She is yours. I will keep her._

The words repeat and repeat, almost drowning out what Marcus says next.

"She needs her rest for tomorrow." And then, his hand leaves her head and he turns, grasping her elbow lightly. She doesn't fight him at all, stunned, as he escorts her out of Aro's rooms. **I will keep her.** _Like a possession. Like I am not a person._ **She is yours.** _I am no longer myself. My body, my will, not even my mind, belong to me anymore._

Marcus does not say a word to her as he pulls her into his chamber. She idly notices that he takes her to the room all the way at the end of the hall, to the purple one, but does not take in the fact that the walls have been newly re-painted, covering up the peeling that was there yesterday. He guides her to the edge of the bed, pushing on her shoulders to sit down. It does not occur to her that last night, this bed had been ripped to pieces.

"You should freshen up before you go to bed," he tells her.

 _Keep me. I am his._

 _But that's not true, is it?_

When he receives no reply, not even a sharp glare in his direction, Marcus sighs loudly and grabs her chin. For whatever reason, it is this action, his cold fingers squeezing her jaw, that snaps her out of it. Her eyes meet his and he grimaces at the glassy look.

"I am sure that was a shock for you," he mutters, in what she thinks is suppose to be a comforting tone. "That could not have pleased you." When he gets no response, he frowns and drops his hand. She keeps his gaze. "Shower, brush your teeth, and change your clothes. We marry tomorrow."

With that, he turns sharply on his heel and stalks out of the room. Demi stares at the closed door, still somewhat dazed, before turning and laying down on the bed. She does nothing of what Marcus commands, and instead, sobs into the new pillows.

She doesn't know how long she cries. At first, she simply cries because of Caius' words. _She is yours._ As soon as she no longer has tears to shed about that, she remembers how Aro punished Sulpicia, and she cries because she fears that will be her future. And when she has run out of the energy to worry about that, she cries as she thinks of tomorrow; her wedding. The final nail in her coffin. And then she cries harder, as she realizes it is not the final nail in her coffin. No, even if she somehow makes it through all the trauma that is sure to come with the new day, she still has to worry about being changed into a vampire. And then she thinks of her parents; by now they must realize she is missing. And she cries more.

She falls asleep crying, at some point in the early morning on the day of her wedding.

* * *

 **WORDS:** 12,166

 _Author's Note:_ Thank you for reading. Please review, as I like to respond if possible and answer any questions you may have. Forgive any typos/misspellings. I have no beta and had less time to proof read. The wedding is next chapter, which I hope to get out this upcoming week.


	4. P1, Ch4: Wedding (Demi4)

**Part One, Chapter Four: Wedding (Demi POV #4)**

 **P1. Ch. 4: Wedding (Demi4)**

* * *

"You look radiant," Dora says gleefully. "Don't you agree, Sulpicia?"

Demi watches through the mirror as Sulpicia raises a perfectly arched eyebrow. Her eyes roam over Demi's body. Finally, the woman gives a small shrug. "She'll do," she mutters. It appears Aro's lesson last night did a good job instilling a strong disdain for Demi in Sulpicia, as she has been less than cheery this entire morning. Demi ignores the insult and stares at her herself.

She has to admit it; she does look beautiful. For not wearing make-up themselves, Dora and Sulpicia are surprisingly gifted at applying it. They had painted Demi's face on, and now, more than ever, Demi looks like the inhuman beauty of Didyme. But most of her focus is on the loud, crisp, white dress her reflection is wearing. _A god damn wedding dress_. It amazes her how the dress fits her perfectly, despite the fact that Demi never had a fitting and that Dora had only a dozen or so hours to tailor it.

The dress is everything she thought it would be. It's even more stunning on her than it was on the mannequin. Her hands soothe an imaginary wrinkle as her fingers pet the material. Strangely, even though she's wearing the dress against her will, it gives her a source of strength. A dress this elegant, this large, this breath-taking, forces the woman wearing it to have confidence. She feels almost unstoppable, like this is a dress that could make men cry and fall to their knees in front of her. She knows it's silly. The man for whom she wears this dress will not move a muscle when he finally sees her in it. But she likes the feeling anyway, and she clings to the illusion of power the dress gives her.

The dress is paired with simple, four-inch heels that cause Demi to wobble slightly. Her hair is pulled back into a tight bun that shows her long neck line and clear face. The dress leaves her shoulders bare and Demi frets about having so much of her throat exposed in a room full of vampires. She looks beautiful and sophisticated, but most importantly, she looks like a bride. She can't help but sing in her head: _here comes the bride, here comes the bride._ Her hands shake.

Demi studies Sulpicia and Dora through the mirror. Their dresses are similar in style to each other; both are dark plum chiffon, with thin spaghetti straps on the shoulders. Sulpicia's is streamlined, tight on her body, showing off her wonderful breasts and killer hourglass figure. Dora's style is faintly different, with more draping and a softer look. Their hair flows down their backs and they have, of course, no makeup on. ( _Why would they need any?_ Demi's pettiness creeps in.) They are co-Maids of Honor. Demi doesn't even know if that is allowed, but then again, nothing about this wedding is conventional.

Dora ignores Sulpicia's comment and grabs Demi's hand. "It's time." Demi's heart flutters loudly. Dora helps her down from the platform she is on. The dress is heavy. Very heavy, and Demi has trouble maneuvering the thick, full skirt. Sulpicia has to grab part of it and fling it behind Demi so that the girl does not trip.

Dora picks up the bouquet that is laying on a chair by the door and hands the flowers to Demi. As the trio leaves Aro and Sulpicia's room, Demi grips the bouquet tightly, as if it is her last lifeline. To distract herself as the women lead her toward the exit, each step bringing her closer and closer to Marcus, she wonders why it is she got ready for her wedding in Aro's wing. _Surely, it would have made more sense for me to use Marcus' chambers?_

Her musings are cut short when Sulpicia opens the door to leave the wing, and Demi sees the three vampires that comprise the Wives' Guards. Santiago, Corin, and _what is the other's name again?_

They do not say a word to Dora guides Demi to the elevator. The last one— _Aaron? No, Afton!_ —pushes the 'down' button and the group of six wait in for the doors to open. To fill the awkward silence, Dora turns to her.

"The Great Hall looks absolutely beautiful dear." The door opens and Dora's hand pulls the not-so-blushing-bride into the elevator. Demi doesn't comment, and she can feel Dora's disappointment. Dora is excited for the wedding, Demi can tell. And Dora's joy only worsens Demi's mood. She scowls at the vampire. _Can't she see how much I despise Marcus?_ But of course, Demi's feelings don't matter to them, not even when it comes to her own wedding. _They're too focused on Marcus, on how he fares from this._

As the group piles in, it is Afton again who presses the button labeled '2'. The guards, the Wives, and the soon-to-be-Wife move down two levels. When the doors open, Demi finds herself back in the lobby like area Felix and Demetri had dragged her through on her first night, before she met Marcus. _Marcus' office is on the second floor, lobby is on the second floor, doctor and humans are three levels below on level 'R', the doors to the castle are on level 'L'._ Demi makes herself a mental map. She'll need it for when she escapes. The castle is dauntingly large.

But her quick mental observations stop as soon as she sees Aro standing in the middle of the modern room, facing the elevator with a wide smile.

Immediately, she thinks of last night. _Aro's hands around Sulpicia's neck, his twisted calm as he watches his wife crawl to another man, Aro's friendly smile as he slams Sulpicia into the floor. His harsh words, coupled with her shame, as he commands her to watch Sulpicia and Caius._

She physically jerks back at the memories, and Aro's red eyes, brighter than last night, don't miss it.

His smile doesn't flicker as Dora drags Demi out of the elevator, but he does switch his gaze to Sulpicia. He gives her a gentle kiss on her lips. Demi recoils. _How can a man be such opposites?_ The guards stand around them, forming a loose half-circle, not looking at their Master. Dora lets go of Demi to embrace Aro in a familiar hug. _Have they had sex?_ The thought is unwanted, but still, she longs for the answer. When Dora pulls away, his eyes are back on Demi.

"Hello, dear," he says. Demi's heart sinks to her feet. She struggles to find a regular breathing pattern. _How does he manage to terrify me with just two words?_ He does not comment on her physical response to him, even though she knows he can hear her heartbeat going awry. He walks to her and she somehow manages not to run or scream or faint. _Brave_ , she tells herself. _I must be brave and strong. They will not break me._

But she comes close to breaking as Aro presents one hand to her, palm up. It would be bad enough for her to have to touch him in any way, even if it is just his hand, but there's another factor to Demi's hesitation. Now she knows his gift. _He'll read my mind._ It is the first time she has been confronted with it since her first night. Aro's smile is still strong on his face as he waits for her to give him her hand. Swallowing a scream, she does so.

Aro hums softly at the contact and the same quick snippets of color flash through her mind. She suppresses a shudder, telling herself that her only new thoughts the past two days have been centered around her hate for the Volturi. She should be happy for the opportunity to show him just how much she wants to kill them all. Aro opens his eyes, clucking his tongue once in mock admonishment, but his condescending smile is still there.

"I hope you don't mind, dear. Since your father sadly could not be here, I thought that I might walk you down the aisle." His eyes gleam wickedly. Demi's blood boils. _How dare he mention my dad!_ Before she can curse him out, he turns from her, dropping her hand, and looks to the wives.

"Go now," he tells them. "Everyone is waiting and the ceremony is starting." Dora and Sulpicia do as he says, all three guards leaving to follow them also, and they exit through heavy wooden doors. Aro whirls back around towards Demi.

"The wedding will be held in the Great Hall. You have not seen it yet, but trust me, it is marvelous. I think you will enjoy it, if you let yourself." _Yeah, right._

He takes her arm and places it under his, pulling them close together. She clutches her bouquet with all her might, as her side touches his. Bile rises in her throat, and she swallows it while blinking back tears.

"One last piece of advice," Aro whispers into her ear. "This day means a lot to Marcus. If you attempt to ruin it, there will be consequences. Be a good girl, speak when you are told, and say nothing more than needed." And with that, he turns his head forward, grips her arm tighter, and grins like a cat.

Somewhere beyond the big doors, a piano begins to play. 'Bridal Chorus' thumps in Demi's ears. _Here comes the bride, here comes the bride_ , she sings again in her mind, but Aro's words almost drown the tune out. She has not had a lot of time to decide on how she will act for the wedding. The entire morning was a whirlwind of activity with the Wives. Sulpicia's spanking is at the front of her mind. _Is that what Marcus will do to me if I misbehave?_ She scoffs next to Aro, who sends her a quick glance.

 _Misbehave_ , she mulls the word over. _I hate that word. He is not my parent, he does not get to demand my obedience._ Demi doesn't think she could stomach obeying Marcus, especially when the thought of her wedding makes her so angry. Again, she thinks of Sulpicia's punishment, of having to give Caius oral sex. Demi shudders. _I wouldn't be able to do it._

Demi realizes, standing beside Aro as the doors open, revealing a darkly lit corridor, that she is stuck between a rock and a hard place. If she causes a scene, she risks losing her pride. But if she stays quiet, she risks losing her will. If she doesn't fight, doesn't that mean Marcus has won? She decides that she can take whatever punishment he gives her. Even if she has to service Caius and Aro. It might be worth it if she can fuck up this day for him. Afterall, hasn't he stolen her life from her? She deserves a small victory, no matter how quickly it vanishes or the consequences of it. She wants to show him how she cannot be so easily broken.

She decides on all of this as Aro leads her down the hallways. Demi wants to laugh at the red and black rose petals lining the pathway. _Are those suppose to be romantic?_ She can't help but wonder what the point in all this is. Like she realized yesterday, this marriage will be nothing but a sham. _The Volturi don't seem to keep up with human traditions, so why bother with this one?_

Finally, after several minutes of walking, they reach another set of big wooden doors. _This is it_. She steadies herself. _One more nail in the coffin._ She feels her heart beating out of her chest, and something is clogging her throat. _Give 'em hell_ , she thinks.

The doors opens, this time held by two human servants. Despite her earlier gravitas, Demi gasps in shock at the scene in front of her. _The Great Hall certainly is grand,_ is her first thought. The room is is large, open, and round, with white marble floors and walls. The ceiling is a large dome made entirely of glass. For the first time since being in the castle, Demi can see the sky. She can tell the windows are heavily tinted, from the blue hue of the sun, but she's grateful nonetheless. The room itself houses a few dozen wooden pews, aligned evenly on each side to create a small aisle.

But it is not sun, nor the decor, that cause Demi to gasp. The gasp is prompted by the creatures inhabiting the room. When the doors opened, everyone had stood up and turned their heads back to look at her. And Demi finds herself being stared at by hundreds of red eyes. Every single one of the beings in the room, there to witness her wedding, are vampires. Demi thinks she might faint.

At the front of the room is a dais, raised by five small steps, and four more vampires stand there, also looking at her. Standing slightly to the left and on the third step are Sulpicia and Dora, stunning as ever in the mid-day light. In the middle, standing above everyone else, is Caius, wearing a black tux similar to Aro's. And in front of him, in the center of the room, turned full face at her, is Marcus. Her heart beats wildly as she looks at him, her soon-to-be husband. He looks like a groom. He looks absolutely handsome, and Demi wants to run far, far away from him.

The large amount of vampires starring at her is too much; it sends a shock down her body and her natural instinct overpowers her. She takes two steps back from the doorway, and Aro turns his head to look at her too. Tears spring to her eyes. Like a ton of bricks, it hits her, full force. She had thought she understood before what her life would be like from now on. She had thought she had come to terms with it last night, and then again just a few minutes ago. But it is not until this moment, as she stands at the entrance to her wedding, that the desperate despair hits her. She is marrying a soulless monster, in a foreign country, in a foreign world, surrounded by creatures who are not even her own species. There is no one in the world who can help her. _I am utterly alone._

Aro allows her to stay in the doorway for five full seconds, as all the vampires drink in the sight of her. In truth, it is not only Demi who needs the time to regroup. The entire Guard is shocked by her likeness with Marcus' dead mate. The rumors had been circulating throughout the entire castle, first by Demetri and Felix, then by the Wives Guard. Every member of the Guard has seen at least one painting of Didyme, as there are multiple hanging in the castle, but they had all went to Renata to ask her if it was true, if the human really is the vampire reincarnated. Renata, who was around when Didyme still lived and had seen Demi herself, on that first night, had confirmed it. But to see the doppelganger for oneself is something else entirely.

Before seeing the girl, many of the Guard thought the Masters insane, for bringing a human up to their chambers and treating her like a wife. Even earlier today, many still whispered to each other about whether Master Marcus had officially gone mad. But now, as all of the Guard and several guests of the Volturi feast their eyes on the astonishing human, they no longer question why their Master wants to marry her.

Finally, Aro begins pulling her down the aisle. Aro practically drags her, and although she puts up little resistance, she goes as slow as she can, her eyes locked on the red of her husband to-be.

Marcus steps down from the dais and meets Aro at the bottom. Aro guides her hand into Marcus' and let's go. _Out of one cold hand and into another._ Demi has to break eye contact from Marcus as he leads her up the steps to stand before Caius. Demi hates how she grips his hand tightly, but she needs his help balancing herself on her heels, as the dress weighs her down. Aro also walks up and stands on the right of Marcus, level with the Wives. There are no other bridesmaids or groomsmen.

Everyone is now seated behind them in the pews and Demi can feel the red eyes on her back. Her skin crawls and the hairs on her neck and arms stand up. She has to bite the inside of her cheek to stop from visually shivering.

Caius begins, with Demi's hand still trapped in Marcus'. _As it always will be now_ , Demi thinks bitterly. "Dear brothers and sisters, children and friends, we are here today to witness and celebrate the union of Master Marcus and Mistress Demi in marriage." If Demi was not currently trapped in a room full of vampires and about to be forced to marry one of the three vampire rulers of the world, she would have laughed at how cheesy Caius sounds. _And Mistress? Where the hell did that come from?_

"Marcus, do you vow ad finem to Demi and take her as your wife?" Demi startles at Caius' question. _Are these the vows?_ She remembers yesterday, how Caius thought she should not say them at the wedding, since she is still human and they officially bind her to the coven. Demi gulps in the few seconds of silence, and she allows herself to imagine Marcus suddenly coming to his senses and saying 'What? No, of course not. This is ridiculous.'

"Yes, ad finem." Three words. Three simple words, yet they seal Demi's fate forever and crush her dreams. (Although, honestly, there was never even hope to begin with.) Turning to her now, Caius' red eyes, also brighter than last night, watch her warily. Demi's nails stab the bouquet as she holds it tightly. _Oh, God._

"Demi Harris, do you vow ad finem to Marcus and—"

"No." She says the word fast and surprisingly strong, cutting him off. Caius narrows his eyes. She can see his hand twitch, as if wanting to curl into a fist, or perhaps just outright slap her. Next to her, Marcus continues to stare straight ahead, but she can hear a low growl building in his chest. The fury is radiating off of him. From where she stands, she can't determine Aro's reaction, but she's sure he is displeased. His earlier words bounce in her head: ' _If you attempt to ruin it, there will be consequences._ ' Caius grits his teeth, obviously wanting to say something, but he takes Marcus' cue and ignores the outburst.

"Take him as your husband?" Before she answers, Marcus squeezes her hand hard, in warning. She lets out a gasp of pain, the sound seeming to echo and hang in the air. She knows this is her chance to save herself, to redeem herself. If she says the words, just three small words, she might escape all punishment whatsoever, or at the very least, lessen the harshness. But just thinking about giving in makes her want to vomit. _Give 'em hell_ , she thinks again.

So, instead, she says: "No."

Instantly, Marcus lets go of her hand and grabs the back of her neck. His grip makes her release the flowers; the bouquet hits the floor with a dull thump. She goes limp, her knees buckling. Marcus catches her with his other arm, encircling her hips and supporting her weight. She once again finds herself pressed up against Marcus' chest.

"SAY THE WORDS!" He screams loudly, his mouth right next to her ear. She flinches desperately, flopping in his arms like a captured fish, trying to escape. His words ring clearly around the room. Behind her, the audience is completely silent and still. In front of her, Caius is scowling as he watches Demi twist violently. Marcus' hand on her neck squeezes, pulling at the loose skin around her throat. She can feel herself struggling to breathe. "Say the words!" He demands again, not quite as loud.

Her self-preservation finally kicks in. "Yes! Ad finem!" She wheezes out. Immediately, Marcus releases her, and her knees, not prepared and still weak, collapse under her. She begins to fall, but Marcus catches her right arm in time to haul her back up. He keeps his hand held tightly around her elbow. Demi's still trying to regain control of her breathing. Tears pathetically roll down her face. Idly, she wonders if Sulpicia and Dora are upset that she's ruined her make-up.

"The rings." Caius' voice is calm, as if nothing just happened. Demi allows herself to close her eyes briefly as Aro takes a step forward to hand the rings to Marcus. She knows she cannot face him, not yet, not until she has rebuilt some of the wall that is crumbling in her mind. Marcus turns sharply to face Demi and she opens her eyes as his hand on her arm leaves her to grab her wrist. He holds it so tightly that she gasps in pain, more tears welling in her eyes, but he seems to have not the slightest bit of pity for her. His face is emotionless as he slips one of the rings onto her finger, letting go of her when it is done. This time she manages to stay upright. He puts his own ring on himself.

Caius' eyes settle on Demi now, a large smirk coming across his face.

"I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss your bride." Caius speaks the words so quickly that Demi does not catch the meaning of them until Marcus has already grabbed her by the waist and is pulling her in. As if in slow motion, she watches as his lips move closer to hers. _Hadn't I thought about kissing those lips yesterday?_ But she finds her curiosity gone now, as she frantically pushes against his chest and turns her head. He growls again, louder this time and captures her chin, forcing her to look at him. Their eyes meet for a moment and then his mouth is on hers.

His cold lips burn Demi, firm against her soft ones. However, the kiss is quick and chaste, lasting only three seconds. She feels grateful towards him, knowing that he could have decided not to show her any mercy, especially after her disruption. He is being kind, in a way, by giving her a tongue-less kiss. And then she finds herself angry at being thankful that his forced kiss on her wasn't worse. _God damn it, Demi, just because he could have done more and didn't doesn't mean he deserves your praise!_

He pulls back, his eyes once again meeting hers. Her heart beats faster at what she sees in them: anger. Cold, burning anger. He grasps her arm once again, irritating the growing number of bruises there. He turns them to the sea of red eyes. There is a polite applause and Demi can do nothing but look down at the ground as Marcus pulls her down the aisle. She does not dare to look back at the dais, where Caius and Aro and the Wives stand, probably already plotting on how to punish her. As Marcus leads her out of the hall, she realizes she should have headed Aro's advice. Her small act of defiance had not been worth Marcus' anger.

The doors bang shut behind them, and Marcus releases Demi from his grasp with a shove. Demi stumbles, and leans against a wall to orientate herself.

"You stupid girl!" Marcus hisses at her. His voice is loud enough to vibrate the stone behind her. It's not quite as bad as his shout from before, but Demi's eardrums still rattle. Demi squeezes back against the wall as Marcus turns, towering over her.

"What did you think your stunt would get you?" He demands, putting his hands on the wall, trapping her. "Did you think one of those vampires in there was going to save you? Do you think they care if you want to marry me or not? Don't you see?" He grabs her by the arms, and shakes her slightly. His words grow louder. "Don't you see, human? There is no one here to save you. You have only I, and I alone will decide what happens to you. I should kill you, after that stunt. I should bite into you and drink."

At this, Marcus pushes Demi's head to the right, exposing the left side of her shoulder. He leans his head in closer, and places his lips along her pulsing artery. Although her natural instincts cause her to push feebly against his shoulders, she does not fight him.

She thinks back to her first night, when she promised herself to survive no matter what. She had to survive to get back to her family. _But now_? Now that she knows why she was brought here, and that vampires exist, and that there is no way she can ever escape, what's the point? Even if she did manage to get away, she can't go to her parents. If the Volturi ever find out that they suspect even the smallest thing, they would kill them. And if she could never see her parents, what is the point in living and fighting? She settles on all of this in a few seconds. Death is not want she wants, but it's her best option given the situation. _Better to die now then spend an eternity as this monster's wife._

Marcus pauses there, just lightly kissing her neck, for at least several minutes. It gets so quiet, that Demi can hear the moving of furniture inside the Great Hall and low voices as they converse. Although she knows the vampires in the room can hear everything that is happening, no one comes to stop it. Marcus is right; none of these vampires care in the slightest about her. If she survives past this point, and as of now she is unsure whether she wants to or not, then she would have to rely solely on herself to escape ( _although, again, what's the point?_ ).

Finally, Marcus lifts his head. He sighs, and steps away from Demi, releasing her.

"Come now, child. We have a party to attend," he tells her, offering his hand. Demi is still pressed against the wall, and she looks from Marcus's face to his hand several times. She hates the way he calls her child. She hates the way he calls her _girl_ , and _human_ , and _Demi_. She just hates him.

"Why don't you do it?" She asks him, her voice shaking. There is a part of herself that tells her to stop now, to take the opportunity of not being slaughtered to focus on her escape. To live, as she promised herself on the first day. _The moment of weakness from earlier can be forgotten. You can survive!_ She tells herself. But there is another part of her, who tells her it is pointless to keep going. Her future holds only darkness, so she might as well goad him into killing her now. At the very least, she can take comfort that in her death, she will take away Marcus' one reprieve, making him lifeless again.

Marcus draws his face up in confusion at her question. "Why don't you kill me? Do it! I want you to!" She offers her neck to him and closes her eyes, waiting for the final blow. _I don't want to die!_ She screams in her head.

She jumps when Marcus grabs her hand and tugs her from the wall harshly. He shakes his head as he straightens her dress. Leaning down, he whispers into her ear, "Remember: I decide what happens to you. I thought you would have already understood that what you want is of little importance to me. You do not want to die, Demi. You just hate me, and see no way out of this marriage. Which is true; there is no way out. The sooner you accept this, the happier you will be."

He stands fully, and looks towards the two wooden doors once more. He takes one of Demi's hands in his. Her head is spinning from everything that has happened. _Thank God_ , she can't help thinking. _Thank God he saw through my charade._

 _Oh, shut up!_ She snaps at herself.

"You will be punished for your transgression later," he tells her firmly, just before he leads her to the doors, opens them, and walks them inside.

Although she had just been there not five minutes ago, the Great Hall looks completely different. There are no pews anywhere in sight. On the dais are three thrones—none occupied—and behind them is a luxurious couch filled with pillows. All the vampires that had been sitting are now in small groups dispersed throughout the room. As they enter, all red eyes are again focused on Demi. Beside her, her husband— _husband!_ —releases her hand and places his on her lower back. Though she knows her wedding dress is much too thick for it to be true, Demi swears she can feel the coldness of his fingers as he pushes her forward.

Gradually, as they walk through the crowd, conversation picks up again, and red eyes turn away from Demi. She relaxes just slightly, as much as her instincts will let her, until she realizes that Marcus is leading her towards his brothers and the Wives. Sensing her reluctance, Marcus places his free hand on her arm and keeps her steady as he guides her.

The group looks at the couple as they approach, and Demi tries her best to look anywhere else. She realizes that almost everyone in the room is wearing black cloaks, with the exception of the Brothers and Wives and one or two other vampires. Also in every vampire's hands is a clear glass that holds an unknown, dark, red substance. It looks like wine to Demi, but she doesn't know a brand that is that dark. _I thought they didn't drink human stuff. Maybe they can still drink alcohol though?_

When they finally reach the group, Demi sees they too have glasses and Aro hands one to Marcus. No one offers her one. Demi stands their, crossing her arms over her chest protectively but still glaring. Marcus takes a sip of the substance and then smiles wide.

"Congratulations, brother," Aro offers, shaking Marcus's hand and briefly closing his eyes before humming. _Interesting_ , Demi notices. _He does it to him as well_. Demi had witnessed this before, on her first night, before she understood Aro's gift, but that had been because Marcus couldn't articulate his thoughts clearly enough. Marcus does not seem bothered by it, and snakes his hand around Demi's waist. She tries to maneuver out but Marcus's hold is too tight. The action does not go unnoticed. Aro raises an eyebrow. But it is Caius's cold voice that speaks next.

"And your bride looks completely fed up with you already." Marcus throws back his head and lets out a loud, deep chuckle. Conversation stops immediately in the hall, as heads turn to look in complete astonishment. Even Aro, Caius, and the Wives seem taken back. As Demi looks at the coven, she can't help but think about all the times Marcus has told her she has awakened him. _Is it true that I've somehow changed him; made him better, even though he knows I am not his true mate?_

Conversation picks up again and Demi chooses to speak. "Are you not going to offer me any refreshments?" She congratulates herself for how strong she sounds. However, everyone seems to find this hilarious, and they laugh at her expense, Marcus joining in again.

"It is blood, my dear," Aro clues her in. "But if you insist, I am sure we can find you a glass." Beside him, Sulpicia and Caius are smirking in such likeness, Demi is convinced that _they_ are each other's soul mates. She blushes deeply and is revolted.

"How…"

"We drain them, keep the blood warm. It's not as satisfying as a fresh kill," Caius says, his eyes watching every flinch Demi makes at his words. "But it's nice to have when we wish to celebrate but don't want to clean up after a hundred human carcases." Demi blanches. _One hundred. Is that an exaggeration?_ Her eyes sweep over the room. There's at least sixty members on the guard, plus the five coven members, plus the handful of others not wearing a cloak. Not one hundred, but certainly a lot.

This is it; her wedding reception. And at least sixty humans died to offer refreshments for the monsters who are attending it. Demi zones out of the idle conversation of the Brothers, choosing to take in more of her surroundings. She recognizes a few of the vampires—Felix, Demetri, Santiago, Corin, Afton, the mousy girl from her first night—but most are unfamiliar and threatening. She can't believe how many vampires there are in the room. And every single one drinking blood. The thought and image brings bile to Demi's mouth, and she forces herself to swallow it down, switching her gaze to the sky.

The sun is still shining high above, offering tons of natural light, but no sun rays actually touch the walls. She knows that vampires don't burn in the sun, but is there another reason why the windows are so heavily tinted? Her eyes look to the large chandelier hanging from the center of the dome. It must have hundreds of crystals.

"Well then," Aro's voice floats into Demi's ears, louder than the rest of the conversation. "We seem to be boring your bride." Demi glances at the devil and flushes a deeper red. _Caught._ His smile widens. "Perhaps we should make our toasts now?" The thought fills Demi with dread.

The group follows Aro through the room and up the dais, Demi bringing up the rear and dragged by Marcus. Aro says nothing to grab the attention of the crowd, but they all quiet and turn to stare at him on top of the platform. Marcus and Demi stand together on the right side of Aro, with Sulpicia on his left followed by Caius and Dora.

"Brothers and sisters, we celebrate tonight as we welcome a new member into our ranks and family. Finally, we see Master Marcus content with the arrival of Demi, and we honor them." It is a rather short wedding toast, but then again, what else would there be to say? They do not love each other, one of them doesn't even want the wedding! Lifting his glass high in the air, Aro says, "Ad finem!"

"Ad finem!" Caius, Marcus and the Wives repeat. But the crowd of vampires says something different.

" _Al fine!_ " They raise their glasses as well, and after the toast, take a drink. Demi notices only the vampires wearing cloaks, only those in the Guard, say the words. Her brow furrows. _What's this? Another vow?_ Demi stands empty handed watching the ceremony. She knows it seems pretty unimportant in the grand scheme of things, but she's upset by how lonely she feels. She has dreamed of her wedding since she was thirteen. She had always looked forward to getting married, to planning the celebration and party. When she imagined her wedding, she never pictured herself here, so left out and alone in an alien environment.

Aro takes a step back while Caius steps forward. "She is human," Caius begins, his voice echoing in the marble hall. "But she is a Wife. You will show her the respect due to her position in the Volturi Coven. Any insubordination will be strictly punished."

It's not exactly a toast, more like a warning. A proclamation from a king to his subjects. _That's what they are, right; kings?_

Demi forces her eyes to stay on the back of his head. She doesn't want to look out into the sea of red eyes to see how they receive this chastisement. For a moment, she imagines a black hole swallowing her up from the place she stands; anything has to be better than this.

"Do not fret, she will not be human for long." And with that ominous statement, Caius steps back from his position. There is a strange silence in the air, and Demi feels the eyes land on her small form next to Marcus. _Two weeks. That's what he promised me._ Demi peeks at Marcus to see his reaction, but his face is expressionless as he looks forward. _I still have two weeks._ She shivers as she feels the piercing glares of resentment from below hit her skin.

After the toasts, a line begins to form at the bottom of the dais. It is no longer than half a dozen vampires, all of whom are wearing the darkest of the grey cloaks. Marcus pulls Demi close again, keeping his right arm around her waist. As the the first of the vampires step forward, Marcus turns his head to whisper into Demi's ear. "Best behavior," he warns. She sends him a quick glare. _Best behavior my ass. Fuck you!_

The first two vampires in line come forward together, walking up to the third step before stopping. Demi stares at them in shock; _they look so young!_ No older than fourteen or fifteen, Demi would venture, although she knows they could, in actuality, be thousands of years old. They have a small stature though, with tiny, delicate features on their faces that might make them look angelic, if it wasn't for their red eyes. Demi can tell their cloaks are the darkest shade of grey in the room, coming closest to the black of the Brothers. Demi knows that this means their beauty and youth are only masks to hide their danger and power.

It is Aro who introduces them to Demi. "Jane and Alec, our most precious defensive and offensive weapons, respectfully." As the twins (for that's what Demi settles on; they have to be twins) are named, the girl offers Demi a curtsey, and the boy, a bow. The custom is so old Demi just stares in silent shock. "Their powers complement each other nicely. You see, dear, Alec can cut off all physical senses, while Jane can inflict pain, simply by thinking about it."

Demi noticeably stiffens at the description of Jane's gift. It is an action that does not go unnoticed; Jane smiles cruelly at the human and her eyes narrow into slits. Suddenly, Demi's head begins to pound, like a bad hangover mixed with a migraine. She lets out a gasp, her eyes unfocused, and reaches out blindly to clutch hold of Marcus. He growls loudly, and as soon as the pain comes, it disappears.

"Oh, hush now, Marcus," Aro dismisses. "Jane was simply giving Demi a very mild demonstration. No real harm done."

The smile is still firmly set on Jane's face and Demi begins to tremble. Tears well up in her eyes. Jane absolutely terrifies her. Demi's finding it hard to prioritize all the vampires on her "scary" list. At first, it was only the Brothers on the list, but then Corin and Chelsea were added after hearing about their gifts, and now Jane is climbing up the rankings fast. She can't tell anymore who is the most frightening. It seems like everyone she meets could fight for that title.

"Perhaps so, brother," Marcus snarls out, still holding his bride, "but you will tell your pet that my wife is to be left alone unless I give explicit permission." At his words, Jane's smile disappears and the same look of indifference that her brother has replaces it. Demi remembers last night. _Marcus growling at Aro, firmly telling him no, and Aro's deference to Marcus in regards to Demi. His and Caius' words: '_ _Demi will always be yours.' 'She is yours, do not doubt that.'_

Demi looks past Aro, to where Sulpicia, Caius, and Dora stand. They too, are looking at Marcus, much like they had last night when he challenged Aro. Demi can't quite read the expression though. Are they upset, surprised, amused?

"Of course, Marcus. Forgive me." Aro drops his head slightly but his eyes are hard. Jane and Alec bow as they leave their Masters' presence.

As the line moves forward, shortening to only four vampires, two more enter it at the back, making the line six again. The two who join it are familiar to Demi; the giant one from her first night, Felix, and the mousey girl. _Renata_ , Demi thinks, focusing on the memory of Aro snapping the name out. But Demi's attention is pulled away from the two as the next vampire in line steps forward.

The woman is shorter than Demi, with a tempting hourglass figure to rival Sulpicia's. Her hair is light brown, and her eyes just as bright and crimson as any vampire's in the room. She curtsies, dropping her eyes to the floor respectfully in front of Demi. Demi wants to laugh at the idea of any vampire respecting her.

"Chelsea," Aro says affectionately, and the woman straightens with a smile.

Demi feels her blood run cold. _Chelsea_. Next to Demi, Marcus turns to look at her, his eyes watching as she processes the name. _Chelsea_. _The one who ties people together._ Demi does a quick calculation of her feelings, checking to see if she can find any tampering. Maybe Chelsea's power works instantly, and despite Marcus' declaration last night about not wanting Chelsea to mess with Demi, she can't help but be paranoid.

Maybe Marcus changed his mind about her influence, or maybe Aro gave her the go-ahead any way. _Marcus? Still hate him. Aro? Still want to kill him. Caius? Still scares the shit out of me. I still gag at the thought of being a Wife. I still hate the Volturi. I still want to escape._ Demi relaxes slightly, staring at the vampire as she realizes nothing has changed. She idly wonders if Marcus is looking at her ties as well. _Hadn't he described them as black once?_

Chelsea, for her part, smiles nicely at Demi. _Does she know that I fear her? Of course she does, you idiot! You fear them all, don't you? They're vampires!_ Chelsea switches her eyes from Demi to Marcus.

"Congratulations, Master," she says, her voice higher-pitched than Demi expected. "You cannot imagine my happiness at seeing your bond to her. I have never been so glad to find my gift rendered unnecessary." It takes Demi a moment to grasp what Chelsea is referring to. _Marcus no longer needs her to tie him to the coven. Me being here is enough to keep him involved._

Marcus' hand on Demi's hip squeezes once. "As am I," he says, his voice rumbling. Demi's eyes drift closed for a moment, on instinct. When they open, Chelsea is looking at her again. Her head is cocked, her eyes narrow, as if she's trying to figure something out. Demi wonders how her gift works exactly. The Wives had said all Marcus can do is see ties, but Chelsea can break them and forge them. _Does that mean she can also see them? Can she see how Demi's tie to Marcus is made of pure hate?_

Without another word, Chelsea holds her hand out to Aro, her eyes still pegged on Demi. Aro takes it without preamble. He drops it a second later, a sly smile playing at the edge of his lips. "Interesting," is all he says. Before Demi can pounce on the word and demand to know more, Caius speaks.

"Your gift is not completely useless," he begins. Chelsea immediately looks to him. "You understand your new assignment?" He asks. Chelsea nods her head once, no longer smiling. All business now.

"Yes, Master." She gives Demi one last look before dropping into a curtsey again and walking down the dais.

Without looking at the next vampire stepping forward, Demi turns to her new brothers-in-law. "What new assignment?" She demands. Maybe Demi had been wrong, maybe Chelsea did have permission to use her gift on her, and she had already begun to do so, so subtly that Demi can not yet feel the affects. Marcus' hand squeezes her again. She's beginning to understand that whenever he grabs her like that, it is usually one of two things: a possessive gesture, meant to remind her, himself and everyone else, who she belongs to, or a warning to stop whatever she is doing.

Caius' glare is sharp and he hisses at her. "That is no concern of yours." Before Demi can challenge him further, the next vampire in line draws Demi's attention. When she looks forward, she realizes with a start that there are two vampires there. One she recognizes, the other she doesn't.

Demetri stands before her, wearing the same grey cloak he had on when he killed the policemen, holding the hand of the young woman next to him. The girl is breathtaking, although Demi is getting slightly more use to the enhanced level of beauty all vampires seem to share. She has curly, long blond hair twisted into a neat French braid and a gorgeous pair of soft pink lips pushed into a smile. A genuine smile, a kind smile, even.

"Demetri, my dear, you already know." The vampire who originally brought Demi to Marcus bows his head in acknowledgment. Demi remembers seeing his pale face in the dark shadow of the castle. She remembers the sound of the two men's necks snapping. She flinches. "And this is his mate, Claire." The blonde lets go of Demetri long enough to drop into a respectful curtsey. Demi remembers the name from the list of vampires Sulpicia and Dora had included on the first tier of guards.

"Demetri has been with us for a long time, a little more than a thousand years," Aro tells Demi. She glances at him inquisitively, wondering why he is telling her this when he didn't mention it with the others. "He is the most talented tracker in the world." Aro let the sentence hang in the air for a moment, knowing that Demi does not understand him. She glances back at Demetri, who stares at his master with indifference. _Alright, I'll bite._

"Tracker?" She asks. Damn her curiosity. _No doubt Aro has recognized it as one of my weaknesses,_ she thinks bitterly. Aro inclines his head ever so slightly toward Demetri. Demi looks to him.

"I can find people. I sense where people are and where they have been. And I can then track them across the world." Demetri says simply, looking at Demi with surprisingly calm and kind eyes. She almost can't reconcile this man before her with the monster she saw her first night. There is none of the wickedness in his behavior now, none of the playful terror he caused. Aro had called him the 'most talented tracker', not the _only_ tracker, in the world.

"Are there many people who can do this?" She asks Demetri. Even though she isn't looking at him, she knows Aro is smiling. He likes it when she plays along. Demetri lifts then drops his shoulders, and Demi cringes at how unnatural the movement looks. It's not the causal, lazy shrug a human would give. It looks like a robot attempting to perform a task he has only ever seen done before, but has never attempted the action himself. It's too artificial, too over exaggerated.

"All vampires have some type of tracking ability, but they use only their enhanced senses to do this. My tracking comes from my gift. It has two aspects. Half of my gift is simply the ability to sense where vampires are. In my mind, I can just tell where all the vampires I have ever met are in relation to each other and myself. This nomad is North of me, this nomad North of that one, heading East as we speak. The other half of my gift is the actual tracking. Once I meet a person, I catch onto their...I refer to it as the tenor of their mind. I follow that and regardless of the distance between us or the time it has been since I had last seen them, I can find them."

While Demi does find Demetri's gift fascinating, she also finds it downright soul-crushing. _He's a bigger threat than I first thought. If I ever escape, he will be the one they send after me and he will very easily find me._

"This works with everyone? Humans and vampires?" Demi hedges, but it's clear to everyone what she's asking; ' _You could find me?'_ Demetri smirks.

"The first part only works with vampires. But, yes, I can track anyone I have ever come in contact with." And then Demetri frowns. "Well, except one."

"Who?" Demi asks. Marcus squeezes her hip again. It startles her for a moment. He has been so quiet, she almost forgot he was there. _This is it; this is my loophole_. Demetri looks to his master, but Aro nods his head, allowing him to answer.

"Bella Cullen. The shield." _Oh_. Demi doesn't recognize the first part of the name, but Cullen she remembers well enough from the Wives teachings. They had mentioned one of them as a 'mental shield', but she doesn't really know what that means.

Before Demi can ask more questions about this 'Bella Cullen' and how she stops Demetri from tracking her, Aro steps in. "Yes, Demetri's gift is quite marvelous. Very useful in our efforts. But I must admit, Claire outshines him in every facet." Demetri doesn't look upset at this assessment, rather it seems like he agrees. He smiles jovially at Aro and then looks at his mate.

Reluctantly, Demi drags her eyes away from Demetri to look at Claire as Aro talks. "Claire has only been with us for twenty years, one of our newest members. But she has quickly moved up the ranks with her psychic abilities." His tone is similar to a proud father, showing off his daughter. Claire gives her master an appeasing smile.

"I call it remote-viewing," Claire says, catching Demi's eye. Even though she has the same red eyes as all the other vampires, Demi doesn't bristle in fear at her stare. Claire seems…innocent. Her eyes are wide and her features childlike, although she does not look as young or creepy as the twins from hell. "I can see the present, as it is happening, from anywhere in the world."

Demi furrows her eyes at Claire's description of her gift. It sounds like a glorified version of eavesdropping to Demi.

"Anywhere?"

Claire's expression drops slightly. "I need a connection to the scene I'm watching. I can only follow either a person I have met or a location I have been too."

Demi doesn't say anything else. She lets the information sink in. Demetri would be able to track her, no matter where she goes. Claire would be able to watch every move she makes. Demi's heart beats loudly in her chest, and her throat tightens. Just a few minutes ago, out in the hall, pressed between Marcus and the wall, Demi had felt helpless. She had felt like escape was pointless. She feels this even more strongly now.

As if sensing that the two had done their job in dissuading her and stealing any hope left, Aro dismisses the couple.

"Thank you, Demetri, Claire," Aro says softly from beside Demi. They take the cue immediately, Demetri bowing and Claire curtseying before stepping down the dais. As Demi watches, she wonders if she will have to curtsey as well. The Wives did not mention anything about it, but every female Guard member has done so so far. _Fuck the Volturi and their stupid, old customs._

As Demetri and Claire walk away, Felix walks forward, his eyes on the newest member of the Volturi Coven. Demi fights her natural instinct to scream at the sight of him. Demi had somehow forgotten just how tall he is. The night he kidnapped her, it had been too dark and she had been too scared to truly grasp the magnitude of his size. It is downright impressive, as he stands several inches above not only herself, but the Brothers and other Wives as well, despite being on a lower platform than them.

What is even more impressive is that he still manages to look graceful as he bows to Demi. A creature of that size and weight should have fallen face first when attempting the movement, but Felix holds himself almost as regally as Aro does.

"Felix," Aro says. Felix straightens, but he does not look to either Aro or Demi. His focus is on Marcus.

"I am happy to be the one who retrieved her for you, Master," he says clearly, dropping his eyes slightly. Demi's shoulder twitches. "I did not understand at the time, but I do now. I am honored to work for you, Master."

Demi looks at Marcus, who continues to keep a stoic face. His only response is a dismissive wave of his hand. Felix gives one last bow before as he walks down the stairs. _Well that was quick._

Renata is next, and she steps forward timidly. Demi is shocked by how nervous the vampire looks. She still manages to give a respectful curtsey though. "Ah, my sweet Renata," Aro greets. She straightens but doesn't smile.

"Master," the girl whispers out. Aro turns to Demi, a smile on his face.

"Would you like to see Renata's gift in action, Demi?" He asks, but Demi knows it's not a real question. She looks at the shy woman again. She almost can't believe this girl is a vampire, let alone a vampire with a gift. But Demi considers the twins again, with their baby fat still sitting on their cheeks, and how horrifying their powers turned out to be.

Demi doesn't get a chance to say no. Aro turns to Marcus, raising an eyebrow. "With your permission, of course." Marcus gives it with a nod. Demi wonders briefly what the hell his problem is. Not that she really minds his silence, but he seems strangely withdrawn from the reception, in a way that Demi has not really seen before. Almost every interaction she's ever had with the man have been driven by him. But now he's silent. Any anger from earlier seems completely gone from him.

But Demi can't bring herself to care too deeply about it. Her eyes go wide as Renata steps forward and places a hand on Demi's shoulder. At the same time, Marcus drops his arm from her waist. Demi watches in shock as his hand, that just moments ago cradled her body, pulls back behind his head and then shoots forward. _He's going to hit me._ Demi flinches, but as her eyes close in anticipation, she sees his hand come to a sudden, jerky stop a few inches from her. She blinks. Marcus' shoulders are now turned in a different direction, and he has a strange expression on his face.

Demi feels Renata's hand leave her. Marcus takes another moment, and then his hand is back around her, keeping her close to his chest.

"What just happened?" Demi asks, looking bewilderedly between Marcus, Aro, and Renata. Off of Aro's shoulder, she can see Caius smirking.

"Renata is a physical shield," Aro begins. "Any attempt at physical assault she can repel, usually leaving the attacker confused as to what their original purpose was. She's our personal bodyguard."

Demi watches Aro carefully. He says this last line with complete sincerity, but once again, off his shoulder, she can see Caius. He rolls his eyes. Demi does the math. _One Renata, two hands, three brothers._ Technically, yes, she may be all of their bodyguards, but in reality, it's clear that her first priority is Aro. Demi finds a small amount of joy in this. She knows her logic is flawed, but to her, Renata's focus on Aro means less focus on Marcus' safety. It doesn't mean that it would make it easy to harm Marcus (for one, how would Demi even do it? Nothing really hurts them, except for other vampire teeth and...fire. _Fire_!), but it does mean that she would be more likely to succeed if she attacked Marcus than Aro. Demi files the information away.

 _Aro will see this the next time he reads my mind._ She glances at him, as if checking that he isn't already hearing her. _Who cares? Let him hear. He'll probably just laugh at me. Won't you, bastard?_

Renata leaves, and Demi's jaw drops as she sees the next vampire. _Nice boobs_ , is the first clear thought in Demi's mind. And they are nice, sitting high and firm on the girl's chest, easily seen thanks to the woman's low cut dress. _And I thought Sulpicia was sexy_. The vampire standing in front of Demi, bending her knees and dropping her eyes to curtsey (exposing more of her beautiful cleavage), is the epitome of sexiness. She has to be the prettiest person Demi has ever seen. _No, not pretty. Beautiful. No, that's not right either. She's not just beautiful, or just hot, she's...she's perfection. Like a sinful angel._

"Heidi." It is Caius, this time, who greets the vampire. Heidi raises, giving a laugh. _Good God._ Demi knows immediately that despite how welcoming the laugh sounds, how warm and comforting and _right_ it rings in her ears, the laugh is dangerous. The woman is dangerous. _Like a siren, and she's singing her song for me to follow. And I would follow her,_ Demi comes to this conclusion quickly. _Even though I know, intuitively, how lethal she is; if she asked me to come to her, I would gladly, even if I drowned._

Demi takes a step back from where she stands, or at least, she tries. Marcus' hand keeps her in place. Her mouth runs dry. Her eyes prickle with tears. She can't tell if she wants to cry because she's scared or because she has never wanted someone so much. _Wanted_? Demi questions. She realizes, despite Heidi's impeccable body, that she doesn't want her sexually. Instead, her desire is just to be close to the woman. Desperately, she tries to remember if the Wives ever mentioned the name Heidi before. They had only said she was part of the first tier, but _what is her gift?_ _Maybe it's like Chelsea's._ Dread fills Demi.

"Masters," she says politely. Demi tears her eyes away from her, looking wildly at Aro, meeting his stare. He has a knowing smile on his lips. Without breaking eye contact with Demi, he tilts his head slightly.

"That's enough, dear."

Demi's heart begins to slow down. Demi looks back to the woman, expecting to feel the urge to drop to her knees and kiss her shoes, only to find that Heidi looks, well, normal, in a way. Still undoubtedly a vampire. Still undeniably non-human in appearance and grace. But before, she seemed truly magical, divine even. Now, Demi sees less angel and more carved statue. Beautiful, admirable, but not all consuming.

"You just experienced Heidi's gift in full affect. Fascinating, isn't it? Attraction is quite powerful."

 _Attraction_. The word bounces around Demi's mind. _Attraction, yes. That's what that was. I was attracted to her. Drawn to her, physically, but also, somehow, emotionally as well._

"That's why she's so effective in bringing us our food. There has never been more tempting bait."

Demi snaps her head back to look at Aro, horror painted across her face. _Food. Bait._ Demi remembers the Wives, telling her about their business: Volterra Tour Guides. Hadn't Demi seen one of those tour groups walking through the castle doors just a few hours before she herself was dragged through them? _Heidi is the tour guide._ An urge to throw up quickly follows the revelation. _I guess it's a good thing I haven't eaten today._

"That's sick," is Demi's only reply. _Sick_ is putting it mildly, but she can't think of any better word. Caius laughs and Aro keeps smiling. He quickly moves Heidi along with a fluttering hand.

Then, the second tier vampires make their way up. She is formally introduced to the triplet of vampires who are known as the 'Wives Guard': Santiago, Corin, and Afton. For a moment, Demi can't believe this is her first real interaction with Afton and Corin. She had seen them multiple times during her captivity, but she had never spoken to them. She learns that Afton is Chelsea's mate. When Aro tells her this, she can't help but wonder how much of Afton's love is real. _Couldn't Chelsea just bond him to her and it would feel the same?_ Demi doesn't ask the question out loud though, and the Wives Guard leaves almost as soon as it had come.

A male vampire takes their place. "Mikhail," Aro says warmly to the young man as he bows gracefully. Demi studies his face, trying to place his physical age. Demi has noticed how almost all the vampires she has met have been young, most likely none of them older than thirty or so in human years. Mikhail isn't as young as Jane and Alec, and he reminds her of Claire in a way. _A late teenager,_ she decides.

Mikhail rises, his face neutral. "Masters," he nods his head in acknowledgement. Then his head turns to Demi, and he looks her in the eye. "Mistress."

Demi gasps loudly. Nothing can compare to the pure shock she feels at his words. Her blood buzzes strangely in her veins. Marcus' hand on Demi's back twitches and beside him, Aro lets out a laugh. Demi glances down the line, to where the Wives stand. So far, they have stayed completely silent, and this trend continues, although Demi can tell from Sulpicia's face that she is not pleased by Mikhail's greeting. Demi has to agree with her. _I am not his Mistress. I'm not part of this coven._ Caius echoes Sulpicia's disagreement with a low growl.

"Oh, Mikhail," Aro says with a chuckle. Demi wants to scream at him to stop laughing. _Is he ever not giggling like a schoolgirl?_ "Always so formal. It's a wonder how you were ever a revolutionary."

Mikhail cuts his eyes to look back at Aro. She can see just a shadow of a smirk on his face. "Jane's persuasive," is his reply. Aro laughs again and Demi bristles. It's starting to get on her nerves.

"Ah, yes, I remember now. But those lessons paid off." Lessons. _Lessons with Jane._ Demi remembers the quick but intense headache the girl gave her. She shudders, imagining hours of "lessons" under Jane's gaze. "You are the first to address Demi with the respect she is entitled, as Marcus' wife and a member of this coven." Aro says the words to Mikhail, but she can tell, from his raised voice and diction, that the words are not meant for him.

Over Mikhail's shoulder, down below where the vampires not waiting in line are talking to each other, Demi can see several of the previously introduced vampires stiffen at Aro's words. Conversation doesn't stop completely, but it quiets down. _Oh_. All of the first two tiers of the Guard had made a mistake. _A serious one at that_ , Demi guesses from Aro's tone. He had been waiting for someone to address her properly.

"Your past lessons have saved you from a future one." Marcus' voice makes Demi jump. Her stomach tightens in response. _Hmmm…._

Caius grumbles something, too low for Demi to hear. Whatever it is causes Marcus to hiss violently and Aro to glare at him. "Not now, brother," Aro says sharply to Caius. There is a beat of silence, and then Mikhail nods his head toward Marcus, deciding to ignore whatever Caius just said.

"I am thankful for them, then." Demi furrows her eyebrows. She can't tell if Mikhail is being serious or sarcastic. But it is Marcus this time who laughs loudly, startling Demi again. The pause in conversation down below is slightly more subtle this time, as all the vampires take another shocked glance at Marcus.

"I cannot tell if you believe that," Marcus says good-heartedly. "And you'll never admit it, one way or another, will you?" Mikhail doesn't respond. Demi feels another headache coming, this time brought on naturally by sheer confusion.

It is Aro who takes pity on her. "Mikhail has a very interesting gift." Demi goes through the list of the first tier Guards again, making sure Mikhail is not on it. She looks at his cloak; lighter than the Wives Guard's, and the same hue as about a dozen or so other vampires in the room. _No, definitely not first or second tier. Third tier. How interesting could his gift be then?_

"I like to call it fabrication," Aro continues. "'Lying' is just such a negative word, and certainly not something we promote here."

"But that's what he is," Caius cuts in smoothly from the side. "A liar. A damn good one, a useful one, but a liar nonetheless." Mikhail doesn't react to Caius' words. His eyes are on the ground in front of him.

"Fabrication," Aro says again, his voice gentler than Caius'. Demi looks to him. "Essentially, he can fabricate truths, and you feel compelled to believe him. But his gift is more than just manipulating your trust, although only I can truly appreciate the full effect of it." Again, Demi sees Caius huff in annoyance. "His gift is very complex. He can layer his thoughts, in his mind, allowing him to hide the truth in a way. Well, he's even gotten me a few times, haven't you, boy?"

Mikhail looks up. "I suppose, Master," he says, with not a hint of jest. His comment seems to halt the conversation. Aro dismisses him and Mikhail keeps his head down as he walks backwards down the stairs and slips into the crowd. Demi watches him leave, disappointed that she didn't say anything to him, correct him, for calling her 'Mistress.' She is not his Mistress. Regardless of what words she was forced to repeat, or whatever Aro says, she is not part of the Volturi Coven. She's a prisoner, at least until she can escape.

From there on, the introductions move quickly, as the rest of the vampires on the Guard are all third and fourth tiered. Aro tells Demi each of their names and then they're gone and the next one is there. Demi doesn't remember even one of their names, but she does notice how they all make sure to address her as 'Mistress' as they bow or curtsey.

Demi's attention wanders away from the vampires in front of her as she observes more of the mingling taking place below the stage. She notices that the darker cloaks stay close to each other for the most part. Jane, Alec, and Renata stand away from the rest of the vampires and their eyes are focused solely on the proceedings on the dais _. Paranoid fuckers_ , Demi thinks.

Demetri and Claire frequently move around the room, talking to almost every vampire, although Demi has no idea about what. It is clear that Claire dictates their movements; she holds Demetri's hand and he follows willingly as she pulls him from one loose group to the next. They do not discriminate between the tiers or ranks of the vampires, and everyone seems to smile wide at Claire, their agreeableness only outshined by her friendliness towards them.

Felix seems to be flirting with Heidi. He has her pressed against the back wall, and he towers over her, an elbow braced against the wall above her head as he leans down to whisper things to her. She giggles quietly and shakes her head, but it is clear she likes his attention. As time progresses, Felix becomes bolder, and his free hand travels the length of Heidi's body, even slipping into her robe several times. No one seems to think this behavior inappropriate, and Demi wonders if Heidi's using her gift on him, or if he's attracted to her without any extra needed influence.

Chelsea is standing with Afton and the rest of the Wives Guard. Mikhail is standing near a group of three other third tier guards, but he doesn't seem to be interested in the conversation.

Demi considers how often the Guard gets the chance to just talk to each other. Watching it from up on the dais, it seems to Demi like a lame office christmas party. _Do they have get-togethers like this often? Obviously, they don't have weddings every few months._

Marcus squeezing Demi's hip forces Demi's attention back to the dais. She looks at him, and he lifts his chin toward Aro. Aro is giving her a condescending smile and Demi almost feels like she's just been caught not paying attention in class by her professor.

"This is Joham, Demi." Aro shifts his eyes to the vampire standing below them and Demi follows his gaze. She's surprised to find the vampire not wearing a cloak, and she realizes that they must have gone through the entire guard by now. _Wow. Sixty vampires_. At best, Demi can remember a dozen or so of them.

Joham has what she assumes he thinks is a kind smile, but is nonetheless predatory and makes her skin crawl. He's wearing shockingly modern clothes; khaki slacks and a white button up shirt. His skin is darker, suggesting a Mediterranean descent. His long, black hair is held back in a pony tail.

He's obviously not a member of the Guard, but he gives Demi a bow anyway. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Harris." Demi stays silent. What is she suppose to stay; _yeah, well, I can't say the same to you, can I?_

"Joham has been with us for twenty-five years now," Aro informs Demi. Twenty-five years. Demi remembers that number from somewhere else. Then it hits her: it's been twenty-five years since the Wives have left the castle. They left only because of something to do with the Cullens.

"He's helping us with an experiment," Aro continues, letting the bait dangle. Like earlier with Demetri, she takes it.

"Experiment?" Aro gestures to Joham to answer.

"Hybrids. Half vampire, half human." _Hy—what?_

"I'm—" Demi struggles with a response. She swallows hard and then looks to Aro. "I'm afraid I don't understand?" Her statement turns more into a question as her voice brakes.

"Yes, it is strange, even to vampires. This is a fairly new discovery, these hybrids. Joham is, to our best knowledge, the first to learn about them. But it is possible for male vampires to have children, if the carrier is a female human."

Demi looks away from Aro and Joham and up to Marcus. Her heart begins to beat uncommonly fast. She's sure every vampire in the room can hear her anxiety. _I am a female human...he is a male vampire._ She comes to the conclusion slowly, but as soon as he does, her heart jumps to her throat and then quickly falls down to the pit of her stomach. _Oh fuck no!_

Marcus looks down at her, meeting her gaze. "Calm down," he mutters softly, frowning now. _Is that—does he look...could that be concern on his face?_ "I have no intention of using you for that purpose." His words are suppose to calm her, and in one way they do. Her heart begins to slow. She finds it easy to breathe again. But in another way, his words only add to her dread. 'Use you.' _Use me. Like I'm a toy or an object made solely for him._

 _He has no intention of using me for that purpose. But Joham is here to help with an 'experiment'. Furthermore, Joham is the one who discovered such creatures could exist. That means…._

"What happens to them?" Demi demands to know. "The mothers, the women."

Joham has no guilt as he says, "They die. Or at least, all of mine have. The birth kills them." He might as well of shrugged for all the apathy he has in his voice. Demi wants to punch him in the face.

"How many are there?"

"I have four. Or," Joham pauses, frowning suddenly, looking at Aro for a moment. " _Had_. I had four children. Only one still lives. My sole son. But there's another hybrid, not one of mine." By the end of his answer, Joham is smiling again, no longer upset. Demi files the odd behavior away in her mind, as something else dawns on her. _Hadn't Dora said something about a 'half-blood' with the Cullens?_

"One of the Cullens."

At the name, several dozen guards hiss down below. Demi flinches at the sound. _Jesus, these guys sure do hate the Cullens._ Joham looks uncomfortable with the question, and it's Aro who answers her.

"Always so quick you are, my dear. Yes, there is a hybrid with the Cullens."

"And that's why you don't like them?"

Before Aro can answer, Caius cuts in. "Enough," he commands, his red eyes narrowing on Demi. "This is not how we discuss such topics." Aro doesn't look at his brother, but he presses his lips together tightly and looks back at Joham.

"Thank you, Joham." It's clearly a cue to leave, but Demi has more questions.

"Wait!" She demands. Marcus squeezes her waist again. Joham freezes, his eyes cutting from Aro to Demi, unsure how to behave. Demi can tell Aro is displeased by her outburst, but he gives her a tight smile anyway, allowing her to continue. "So what is the experiment?"

Joham relaxes and laughs at her question, like the answer is obvious.

"And you call her quick, brother," Caius says just loud enough for Demi to hear. She glares at him, but Marcus growls. Caius rolls his eyes once more. _You know, for being a two thousand plus year-old vampire, he sure does act like a bratty teenager._

Aro answers her question again. "Joham is here to help us create more. So we can study them, ensure they are not a threat to our secrecy, and let us reap any potential benefits they may give us."

Beside Aro, Demi thinks she can see Sulpicia stiffen slightly.

Before Demi can demand to know any more, Aro waves Joham away, and the vampire leaves immediately. Demi feels sick. The Volturi want to create hybrids. Which means they need to find human females to carry the ( _what do you call a hybrid? A baby? A fetus? A monster?_ ) _whatever-its-called_ to term. _Will they use some of the servants? Will there be any choice for the girl?_ Demi suspects the answer to the latter is no.

Aro looks around the room expectantly, but his smile quickly turns into a frown. Demi doesn't understand why until she realizes that there are no more vampires in line to greet her. The dais' steps are finally empty. She lets out a breath of air, relieved that this nightmare (or at least _this_ part of the nightmare) is over.

"I suppose that is all of them." Aro's frown deepens at his own statement. Demi is tempted to borrow a move from Caius and roll her eyes at his tone. "It is actually such a shame, dear, that you cannot meet Adriane yet. She will soon be an integral part of the Guard, I just know it. But alas," Aro sighs dramatically.

Demi's patience is all but eroded from having to listen to him drone on and on all day. Compounded with that is the anger she feels from every time Marcus has squeezed her hip throughout the reception.

She's pissed at Aro, she's pissed at Marcus, thinking about the Volturi creating hybrids sickens her, she can still see several of the Guard members drinking from the glasses of blood, she's realizing how painful these four-inch heels are, her dress feels heavier with every passing second, she hasn't eaten all day and is starving for some fries, Felix is still flirting with Heidi and for some reason this infuriates her. All the rage, pain, humiliation, and desperation from the day is boiling inside her. She hates this place, this wedding, her stupid dress. She hates how powerless she is, and more than anything right now, the one thing she hates the most is the sound of Aro's voice.

She remembers his warning from before the wedding. She remembers how she promised to _give 'em hell._ Suddenly, Demi gets a very dumb, very dangerous idea in her head.

"She will not be ready for any type of social interaction for a few more years. You see, she broke the law centuries ago, and just yesterday, her sentence was completed—".

"I don't give a fuck, Aro," Demi cuts in simply. Perhaps not her best line, but it gets right to the point: _fuck off_.

Conversation in the hall comes to a sudden halt and it's like all the air leaves the room. There are several loud growls and hisses, and all the eyes of the Guard rest on Aro, waiting for his reaction to such a blatant show of disrespect. Beside her, Marcus's hand on her hip moves down slightly to rest on her ass. Demi stiffens, flashes of Sulpicia's punishment running through her head. _He wouldn't do that here, right?_ He doesn't spank her, but he does squeeze her ass hard and shake her cheek in his hand.

The room is still silent in anticipation. Caius, Dora and Sulpicia have matching looks of outrage and fierce glares. Aro looks at Demi curiously. There are some members of the Guard that almost expect him to kill her right then and there. If it had been anyone else, he just might have.

Instead though, Aro gives her a false smile and tut-s. "My, my, you're certainly going to make things interesting, aren't you, little human?" The small insult crushes her. For a moment, Demi got to feel powerful, like she had upset Aro the way he upsets her. But just like that, Aro reminds her once again how much lesser than him she is. She suddenly finds the marble floor very interesting.

"But, of course, I will accommodate the bride."

Marcus decides to intercede then, taking his hand off of Demi's buttocks. He places a hand on Aro's shoulder, and says softly: "No more, brother. It is time I retire with my wife."

At this, Aro brings his gaze up from Demi, and gives his nod of consent to Marcus.

"Of course. Enjoy your wedding night, brother," Aro says, his fake smile becoming real. Caius claps Marcus on the back once.

' _Enjoy your wedding night, brother.'_ It's the last thing Demi hears.

'Enjoy.' 'Wedding night.'

The words pound in her head. She hears nothing other than the whoosh of her heart and her blood pumping in her ears. Marcus guides her out of the room, but she doesn't remember walking down the dais or who she passed on the way out.

 _What does that mean?_ She wonders, dazed, as Marcus walks her down the hall. She steps on the now wilting rose petals without noticing.

'Enjoy your wedding night.'

 _Why are those words bad? Why am I so terrified?_ She struggles to pin down the origin of her fear. Something's blocking her mind, clouding her thoughts, not allowing her to think.

She blinks and the next thing she sees are the elevator doors opening on the third floor. As Marcus leads her out, she looks behind her. _Where are the Guards? Where are Aro and Caius and the Wives? I thought that we would all sit down together again, like last night._ Her heels click loudly against the marble floor.

'Enjoy...wedding night.'

She walks down the hall of Marcus' wing without complaint. _Wedding. I'm married. Am I married?_ She looks down at her hand. _There's the ring. I'm wearing a wedding ring. But I didn't say 'I do'. It doesn't count if you don't say the words. I saw that in a movie once. The Princess Bride. Princess; royalty; Marcus is a king among vampires. Am I a queen? Am I the Queen Bride?_

'Enjoy...wedding night.'

Marcus opens the door at the end of the hall. _My room. This is where I slept last night._ Purple walls, purple sheets. Black couches and furniture. _My room. No, wait_. A memory is pulled to the front of her mind. Marcus, on her second night here. He opens the door and tells her: "This was—is—our room."

 _Our room. Mine and my husband's. Marriage._

 _Wedding night. Enjoy._

In the end, it's the sight of the bed, sitting innocently against the wall that allows her to think clearly. Enjoy your wedding night, Aro had said. Caius had clapped him on his back. With a startled cry, Demi yanks herself away from Marcus, completely aware that it is only by his blessing that she is able to do so.

"I am not sleeping with you!" She insists loudly, her voice breaking. _Enjoy your wedding night. Enjoy your wife. Sex. He wants to fuck me._

Marcus looks surprised by her sudden aggression, but anger quickly overcomes him. She can see his hands curl into fists at his side. A strange stillness surrounds him. He's not breathing, not blinking, not fidgeting as he looks at her. Then, so subtly that she might have missed it if her eyes weren't locked on his, something inside of him breaks. She can see the flash of madness in his eyes, as they widen ever so slightly and his lips curl into a snarl.

She blinks once, and then he is on top of her, his chest pressed against hers. She tries to scramble back, but he grabs her by her arm, cruelly tugging her forward. Toward the bed. _No!_

"No!" She cries out, refusing to lift her feet, letting them drag underneath her. She wobbles, her shoes tripping her. Her legs go out from under her, like earlier during the ceremony, only this time Marcus makes no move to catch her. Her right hip hits the floor hard. She gasps for breath and lets out a scream of protest as Marcus' hand on her arm drags her across the room. She hears her dress tear along the stone floor.

She feels herself being jerked up. Marcus forces her to stand, but her legs wobble at the effort. The cold murderous look is still there, and his eyes are black again. He shakes her slightly, lets go of one of her arms, and then she feels the sharp, burning pain across her cheek.

She thought that people are suppose to hear the slap before they feel it, but it's only after she feels the cold hand brand her face that she registers the sound. Her head snaps back. The sound is different than when Aro slapped Sulpicia. It's not thunder. It's not as sharp. In fact, the sound is somewhat dull, as if Marcus' skin muffled the loud _'pop'_ she had expected to hear.

Before Demi can even her turn her head back to look at him, she finds her face buried in the mattress. Her nose is pressed against the linens, and one of Marcus' hands is on her neck, holding her down. She can't breathe; she hadn't caught her breath yet from when she fell, and now the sheets are so thick around her mouth and nose, she's barely getting any air into her lungs.

Demi can feel him press more of his weight on her. The bed underneath her shifts as he climbs over her. His knees are on either side of her, and he rests on her back. One of Demi's hands claws frantically at the bed, trying to get a grip to push herself up, while the other one reaches behind her blindly, trying to push against him. He leans over her more. She can feel his chest press against her back. _I can't breathe!_

"You're my wife," Marcus growls loudly, his cold breath hitting the inside of Demi's ear. He smells like fresh strawberries and iron. She loses control of herself. Her body jerks, her head snapping this way and that, her shoulders coming up to protect her neck, and she spasms wildly.

Marcus is not done yet. His voice is harsh and rough. "It is my right to have your body in any way I please, at any time I please. Most here agree with that, and would not think the slightest if I raped you in the middle of the Great Hall." _I can't breathe!_ She rears her head back as high as his grip will allow it and she continues to gasp for air. She can't see anything, blinded by her tears and the bedding.

 _No no no no no!_ She remembers her mother's face, worried and strained, anytime her daughter asked her about sex. She remembers her father's face, worried and critical, the first time Demi brought back a boy. She remembers her parents' faces, worried and terrified, every time she left the house. _Please, God, help me! Don't let him do this!_

Suddenly, the weight is lifted off of her. Marcus' hand on her neck is gone, and his knees no longer touch her sides. She doesn't have the energy to lift her head. She simply turns it to the side and remains lying on her stomach. She gasps for air selfishly, like there is no other person on Earth who needs it like she does. She can't see him, her eyes still clouded with tears. And she just sobs.

But this only lasts for a moment or two before she feels his hands again. She lets out a wail as he grabs the back of her wedding dress and pulls. The sound of it ripping down her spine shocks her into silence. Cold air nips at her naked back, exposed by the tear. _Oh God, I'm not wearing a bra. The dress did not allow for a bra._

She can feel Marcus standing right behind her, feasting his eyes on her back. It's the first time she's been even somewhat naked in front of him, not counting the time when she was in the shower and he slipped her clothes into the bathroom. Her hands grip the sheets tightly.

"Please," she mutters pathetically. His response is to grab her right sleeve and tear the lace. It scratches against her arm as he pulls it from under her. He repeats the process on the left. He pulls at the last of the material on her back and it falls to the ground. She has only her full, heavy skirt and the front of her dress, pinned down by her weight, left.

He doesn't say a word as he tugs the material out from under her. She cries out, the friction leaving the equivalent of a rug burn across her breasts and stomach. She cowers, pulling her shoulders in to protect herself. Strawberries and iron surround her, the smell choking her, clinging to her skin the way she clings to the bed.

She cries as he rips her skirt off, but does not attempt to stop him. She shudders in the coldness of the room, wearing nothing but her shoes and a pair of lacy, white panties. She had gone numb earlier that morning when she first saw them in Dora's hands. Now, she's just grateful she was given something to cover herself. Still, she clenches her muscles and keeps her legs pressed together tightly.

The only sound in the room is her loud heart and gulps for air. She jumps when his hand touches her left hip, his thumb rubbing at the skin there, covered by the thin layer of lace. She's trembling so hard she's surprised the bed isn't shaking and creaking. _Will it creak when he rapes me?_ She cries harder.

His right hand joins his left one on her hips. Then they're slowly pulling down the underwear. He must have squatted behind her, because she can feel his breath on her cheeks. _That bastard!_ He doesn't need to breathe, but he does so just to terrorize her, to force her to realize how close he is to her, to let her know that he sees everything.

She feels the panties pool around her ankles. He lifts her feet himself and pulls them off. She hears his clothes rustle as he stands. She doesn't dare to move. She's never felt more vulnerable in her entire life.

She hears him sniffing and she closes her eyes in shame. Bile rises to her throat and he moans behind her. She thinks back to the encounter in the hallway, of how she begged him to kill her, even though she did not really want to die. Now, she wishes that he had killed her. _Anything is better than this._ Anything is better than lying on a bed, naked, while the monster you were forced to marry sniffs your panties.

"Spread your legs." Demi tries to swallow the lump in her throat down. She sobs loudly at his words and doesn't make a move. _No_. _No no no no no! This cannot be happening. I won't let it happen!_ But she can't even try to push herself up; she's too exhausted, mentally and physically to attempt it.

"Spread your legs, now," he demands again. After a second, Demi lets out a shriek when his cold hands wrap around her ankles again, forcing them apart. Her hands let go of the bed and reach behind and in front of her, trying to shield herself from his eyes. He growls and grabs her wrists, pushing them away and back toward her head. He lets go of them, only to immediately seize them again when she tries to move them back down.

"Do you want me to tie you up?" He asks roughly. Demi shakes her head vehemently. When he lets go of her hands this time, she keeps them above her head, despite how hard it is.

Marcus straightens. Several moments pass with no movement. Demi tries to calm her breathing and quiet her cries so that she can hear him better. _Where is he? Is he still standing right behind me? Is he eye-level with my ass? Has he left the room?_ She turns her chin more and tries to look over her shoulder. All she can see is the wall to her left and the ceiling.

She closes her eyes, focuses on her breathing, and mentally prepares herself for his touch. She knows it's coming. She knows there is only one thing left for him to do.

 _Enjoy your wedding night._

She doesn't know how long she waits like that, eyes closed, body tense in dread, legs spread. But eventually she realizes Marcus has yet to touch her. _Is he even still here?_ Her legs are starting to shake with the strain and her feet are protesting the heels. Convincing herself that Marcus has already left the room, she begins to push herself up.

"Stop." His voice comes from behind her. She stills instantly, hating how he controls her with just a word. Still half-way propped up, she glances behind her.

He's sitting down in a simple wooden chair, perhaps five or six feet away from her. And he's just staring at her. He looks completely relaxed, still in his suit, obviously enjoying the view. He raises an eyebrow at her.

"Back down," he commands, his voice haughty and stately and aristocratic. She looks forward and slowly lowers herself back down. She doesn't want to challenge him. Not that she knows now what it feels like to have him above her, holding her down and stripping her. _No_. If all he wants to do is look, she will bear it, because it's better than the alternative.

She presses her right cheek into the mattress, closes her eyes again, and pretends to be anywhere else. She loses track of time. It surprises her how easy it is to forget that Marcus is watching her, and that she's completely naked in front of him, with her legs splayed vulgarly apart. But it only works for so long, before her body reminds her of how cold she is, before her knees begin to buckle under her, before her pride demands that she cover herself. She doesn't know how long she stays still before she breaks.

"Please, Marcus, I can't." Her voice is small, barely above a whisper.

"You will," he tells her, no mercy given. Demi begins to cry again. The bed is soaked in her tears and snot.

This continues throughout the night, and as more time passes, there is less time between Demi's pleas for leniency. At several points, as the sun sets and the moon rises and falls in the night sky, Demi collapses to the floor. And every time this happens, Marcus stands, not seeming too angry with her, and picks her back up. He repositions her, rubs her back and thighs for a few moments, and then sits back down. After the third fall, he finally takes off her shoes. Demi's legs give out four more times as, behind the thick curtains and unbeknownst to Demi, morning draws nearer and nearer.

The final time she collapses, she stays unconscious, even as Marcus picks her up and lays her on top of the bed, over the sheets. He places her on her back, face up, and then makes his way back to the chair in front of the bed. He doesn't need to, but he sits down again anyway and watches Demi sleep, waiting.

* * *

 **Words:** 15,709

 **Author's Note:** Sorry I posted a week later than I promised, this chapter started at 9k words and snowballed into 16k. Thanks for reading, please review and I'll try to respond. Please forgive any typos/grammar mistakes; I have no beta and I can only re-read the chapter so many times before I want to cry. I'm sure as soon as I post this chapter, I'll find some silly mistake. On my profile, you will find a link to how I imagine Demi and the Wives' dresses. Feel free to look at it, or don't. My descriptions of her dress are vague on purpose, because everyone has their own idea of what a kick ass dress looks like. (Also, the dress is suppose to be 70 years old in style, and the one I picked out definitely isn't. I hate dealing with time shit.) If anyone is confused, this chapter takes place on Demi's third day and fourth night with the Voltrui. Only two more chapters in Part One. Chapter Five will (hopefully) be live in early July, and is titled, 'Consequences'.


	5. P1, Ch5: Consequences (Demi5)

**Part One, Chapter Five: Consequences (Demi POV #5)**

 **P1. Ch5: Consequences (Demi5)**

* * *

The first thing Demi processes when she wakes up is the dull pain in her right eye. Next, she realizes she's freezing. It take another minute or two before Demi concludes that she is naked. Utter exhaustion fogs Demi's brain; she doesn't panic straight away. Instead, she focuses on how her legs ache and her muscles are tight. She can't decide if the twisting in her stomach is due to hunger pains or the urge to pee.

The memories come to her slowly, in pieces. Her hand, held in a paler one. A ring. Clear glasses filled with blood. A young girl's twisted smile and a pounding headache. A hand on her hip, hard and constant. Those same hands ripping her dress apart, baring her, while she struggles to breathe against the mattress.

Demi's left eye flutters open. There's too much pressure on her right eye for her to see out of. The room she's in is dark. No lights are on and the sun is blocked by heavy curtains. _I know those curtains._

 _Shit._

 _Marcus._

Demi sits up and looks down at the bed. Purple sheets. Demi remembers her desperation at not being able to see anything but these same purple sheets as her lungs burned. Demi runs her hands over the linens.

"You bruised worse than I expected." Demi's head snaps up, her good eye squinting to find the figure the voice belongs to. Demi stiffens as she makes out Marcus' form, half a dozen feet from her, still sitting in the same wooden chair from the night before. _Has he been there all night?_ Demi doesn't remember when she finally fell asleep; the last thing she can recall is being picked up from the floor after her sixth collapse and being repositioned, bent over the bed, legs spread.

Demi's hands move to cover her breasts and pubic mound. Marcus raises an eyebrow and lets out a huff of air through his nose. He reminds her of an irritated bull in a pen. Despite his absolute stillness, there is a chaotic, yet calculated, rage to him. Like a coiled snake, waiting for the right moment to attack. _How can a man be both a bull and a snake?_

"Really?" He asks humorlessly, his eyes going from her face to her hands and then back. Demi stays still. She knows it's silly, and that he has had all night to see her naked body, but in the light of the new day, she's too humiliated to let logic dictate her actions.

He doesn't say anything else. The pain in Demi's right eye is making itself well known. It takes her a second to remember the slap he gave her last night, after she refused to sleep with him. At the time, it didn't seem too terribly bad, as far as slaps go. But then again, she hadn't had time to process it. The next second her face was pressed against the mattress and she was being smothered.

 _My eye is swollen shut from the blow._ She struggles to comprehend her new life. How she is married and how her husband slaps her. _How did this happen?_ There are a few more beats of silence, where the two stare at each other, Demi in dazed horror, and Marcus in concentrated observation.

"Did Aro and Sulpicia's display teach you nothing?"

Demi startles at the question, shocked by the apparent randomness of it.

"What?"

Marcus has yet to shift his position, and his unblinking eyes bore into her.

"I have been contemplating all night, trying to decide if you're a masochist or just daft." Demi's jaw drops. "I know Aro warned you about behaving. I know I warned you about behaving. You saw first hand the night before our wedding the consequences for disobeying. And yet, twice yesterday, you disrespected myself and Aro." Marcus pauses for a moment and Demi suddenly feels even colder. "So, which is it? Are you stupid or do you enjoy pain?"

"I—no—wh—neither!" Demi splutters out. Marcus lets out another huff.

"Very well then. Come here."

Again, Demi is in disbelief. "Why?" She demands, suddenly wary.

"For your punishment, girl."

Demi's heart pounds against her rib cage. She gasps.

"I thought—I mean, last night…." Demi's voice is no louder than a whisper. She holds herself more tightly. Marcus looks amused.

"That was for attempting to deny me what is rightfully mine: your body. This is for your disrespect during the ceremony. Aro will deal with your transgressions against him later. Come here."

When Demi doesn't move, Marcus' eyes harden. "Although you have given no indication that you ever heed my advice, I am going to give you some right now. In a few moments, I am going to tell you to come to me. You should. If you accept your punishment quietly, with the grace Sulpicia showed, no one but the Coven and your guards will know the details of it. If you wish to fight, to scream and thrash, if you force me to come to you, the entire castle will hear your punishment and know every embarrassing detail of it. I do not have a preference, at this point, either way. Eventually, I will expect you to take your punishments with poise, but if you wish to humiliate yourself more, and make this punishment worse, I will not object."

Marcus stops talking. The only sound is Demi's ragged breathing. Tears are already threatening to spill over. She tells herself it's because of the pressure on her right eye, and not because she is terrified by Marcus' words. She knows he is pausing only to give her time to think, to give her a moment to decide how this will play out. Will she go to him willingly, sparing herself from some of the pain and shame, or will she be difficult?

Demi remembers how she had the same choice before her yesterday. Aro had given her advice: do not fuck this up for Marcus. Demi had ignored it. Demi swears Marcus' voice as he shouts ' _say the words_ ' is still echoing in her ears even now. Demi remembers being pressed against the wall, Marcus' teeth at her neck. She had decided that her defiance had not been worth his anger. Demi thinks about her fear as Marcus pressed her against this bed and tore her clothes away from her. He could have raped her last night, but he hadn't. If Demi pushes him again, will he do so this time?

Marcus keeps her gaze as he says, for a third time, "Come here."

Demi goes to him. She slips off the bed slowly, falling back against it when her legs quiver from her weight. He watches her patiently as she collects herself, hands still covering her breasts and pubes. She takes small, hesitant, steps toward him, making sure she can support herself before moving forward. When she's within an arm's reach of him, he moves for the first time.

She doesn't see him shift forward in his seat or his hands as they come around her. But she feels the air pass by her quickly and then the vertigo hit as she finds herself upended over his lap. She lets out a humiliated sob, her hands leaving her body to brace herself. The stone of the floor is rough and cold against her palms. She can feel the material of his slacks against the burns on her stomach, from where he ripped the dress off of her. Her breasts hang crudely over the side of his right thigh. Her ass is displayed for him, her legs kicking wildly as she tries to balance herself.

She feels faint as the blood rushes to her head. Desperately, she tries to think of the last time she ate. Then she wonders where Aro and Caius are right now. _Are they in their rooms, with the Wives? Can they hear what's happening?_ After a moment, Demi remembers it doesn't matter where Aro is right now, as soon as he touches either Marcus or Demi, he will see everything, as if he was in the room when it happened.

One of Marcus' hands is gripping Demi's hip, his forearm pressing against the small of her back. His hard body feels like it's crushing hers.

"Fifty," he says the number clearly, his voice traveling and echoing in the room.

The first slap surprises Demi. She lets out a grunt, her body jerking forward over his lap. The impact causes her ribs to push more firmly against his legs. All the air escapes her with a loud huff, and then she's gasping. Marcus either doesn't notice or doesn't care. He hits her a dozen more times before pausing. Demi rears her head back and tries to buck off of him, but his arm over her traps her like restraints.

She's catapulted back to last night, when he pressed her against the bed and stole all her air. Her eyes close, and as Marcus resumes his hitting, she can no longer tell what is the present and what is the past.

The onset of the sobs doesn't help her breathing. She feels her lungs tightening, her throat constricting. Her hands move wildly, scratching at the stone floor, clawing at Marcus' legs, tearing at her neck. With every slap Marcus' delivers, her body slams into his unwielding one. She knows her ass is on fire (despite Marcus' cold hands), she knows her modesty has completely left her, she knows the slaps fill the room so loudly that everyone in the castle must be hearing them, and she knows that if this goes on any longer, she will die.

Black spots cloud her vision. She can't even suck in enough air to scream. She doesn't know how many slaps Marcus has given her when he finally stops and lifts his hand off her back.

Immediately, she rolls off of him, not caring how he sees her breasts. She lands on her back, slamming into the floor. When her ass makes contact with the rough stone, however, she promptly rolls onto her stomach, yelping at how unbelievably raw she feels back there. She scrambles up to her hands and knees, needing to take pressure off her chest.

Drool, snot, and tears pool around her chin and run down her neck as she gasps in air. Her lungs burn and her throat tickles in protest. She seems to choke slightly, coughing and spitting out more saliva. She presses her head onto the floor, moaning at how soothing the coldness is. With every intake of breath, the mucus in her nose makes itself known. She sounds like pathetic sniveling child. She can't find the pride in her to care.

She is just starting to breath normaling, her heart-rate slowing, her chest pain easing, when Marcus speaks. "That was only the first twenty-five."

Demi sobs louder. There's a dark gray spot on the floor in front of her, wet from her fluids.

"Please," she whispers into the ground. A human would not have been able to discern the word, but Demi knows Marcus has no problem. "I can't," she whimpers.

"You will find that you can do much more than you thought possible, when you have no other choice."

And then his cold hand is wrapping around her arm, pulling her off the floor. She does little to protest. As he pushes her back against his legs, she hisses as her sore ribs are once again forced into unrelenting marble. She knows this time will be worse, with her chest already tender and her ass already throbbing.

Marcus, at least, wastes no time. If there is one thing Demi can be thankful for with this punishment, it is the speed in which he delivers it. He doesn't lecture her or ramble or prolong the slaps. He stays quiet as he lays into her, dropping a spank every second or two. By the first hit, Demi's struggling for air again. When Marcus is finally finished with the all fifty slaps, he lets go of her again.

It takes Demi several minutes to fully stabilize herself. Coughs rack her body, adding to her growing discomfort. She feels incredibly weak, as she lays on the floor. Every part of her hurts. Her legs are numb to her, her ass is on fire, she still can't fully open her right eye, and with every desperate breath she takes in, it feels like she's getting punched in the ribs.

At some point, Marcus stands up. She can feel his presence as he steps over her. "When you have calmed, clean yourself. Your new clothes are in the armoire."

Demi doesn't hear his steps as he walks away from her, but she does hear the bedroom door open. He does not close it. Demi makes no move to get up, and continues to sob.

The punishment was worse than she expected. She had not fully understood how humiliating it is to be spanked over a man's lap, like a child. She had not fully understood how humiliating it is to be _naked_ over a fully dressed man's lap. She had not fully understood how much fifty slaps to the ass could hurt.

She cups her hands to her backside, hissing at the tenderness there. She rubs her bottom, sobbing as she thinks again about how childish she must look. One of her hands leaves her bottom to explore her ribs. Her skin there is as sore as the skin on her ass.

If she had truly understood all of this yesterday, before her wedding, there is not a doubt in her mind that she would have behaved better. And she hates this. She hates that Marcus has won, that his punishment did indeed teach her a lesson, and that it's made her regret not bending to him. _Jesus, I'm losing myself,_ she thinks desperately. _I'm an abuse victim._ The reality, the admission, shocks her.

She realizes that even though she was raised by a victim of sexual assault, Demi never really thought she would face it. Sure, she feared it, and was probably more aware of its realities and consequences than the average woman, but she comforted herself by saying it would never happen to her. She had seen those Facebook videos and viral ad campaigns about domestic abuse, but she knew she was a strong woman. She didn't take shit in her relationships; _she_ would never end up bloodied and bruised and violated.

 _But here I am. Bruised and definitely violated. Married to a man who can do whatever the hell he wants to me. And worse, I'm giving in. I would do anything to avoid something like this again._

Eventually, Demi's body makes its needs known. Her stomach and chest need her to take the weight of her body off of them, her bladder needs to let go of a day and a half's worth of pee, and her face needs her to wipe away all the snot and saliva drying on it.

Demi pushes herself onto her knees, and her hand seeks something out to brace herself. She recoils when it lands on the chair Marcus was sitting on. The chair he had used to punish her. She bites her lip and forces herself to push the thoughts out of her mind. If she's going to flinch at everything Marcus touches, she'll never stop flinching. She uses the chair to steady herself as she stands.

Her legs and feet are still throbbing. _Maybe I need an ice bath_ , she thinks. _Or just a bath. A nice, warm bubble bath. With soap from Bath and Body Works, or Lush._ Sadness creeps into her as she realizes she'll probably never again go to a mall. Strange, how this idea seems to crush her. She would never call herself a shopping fiend, but the thought of never having the opportunity to do something so mundane, so normal…. Again, she has to force the thoughts from her mind.

She stumbles down the hall, holding on to the wall, as she makes her way to the bathroom. She doesn't see or hear Marcus anywhere, but that doesn't mean much. Stepping through the threshold, she turns on the light, looking down as she leans against the counter and closes the door.

She looks up, gasps, and stumbles into the wall behind her, wincing as her ass makes contact with the rough tile. _Holy shit_ , she thinks as she looks at the mirror.

The first thing she sees is the black eye. Demi now understands why Marcus had commented on her "more than expected" bruising. The black and blue is gruesome, and the swelling is so bad Demi doesn't know if she'll ever look normal again.

The next thing to catch her attention is the smeared make-up. Even around her good left-eye, there is black from the mascara and eyeliner. Her foundation has clear tear-tracks, revealing her irritated skin underneath it. Her lipstick is smudged across her chin and all the way up to her nostrils. She looks like a pathetic clown.

Demi's breathing is shaky as her eyes travel down to her breasts. Starting at her collarbone, and stretching all the way down to her navel, is a red-rash, from the friction of the dress being pulled quickly from her. But the blotchy red is outshined by the black and blue dotting across her ribs. Level with these fresh bruises, are the yellowing ones on her arms. Her entire upper body is more bruised than not.

On her hips, she can see the outline of Marcus' fingers from where he squeezed her. She wants to vomit. She doesn't actually feel the need to vomit, but she wishes she did. She wishes that what was happening to her was like a virus; you feel bad, but then you expel all the bad stuff out of your body, and you suddenly feel so much better. But it's not that easy.

These bruises, the bags under her eyes, how unbelievably tired she feels, none of this is caused by a stomach bug she picked up on vacation. She won't ever get better. The bruises may heal, and may or may not be replaced by new ones, but she'll never feel the same again. She'll never feel safe again, escape or not. Marcus will always, from now on, own her body. He's stolen it from her; covered in his marks, trembling because of what he's done to her.

When Demi tries to relieve her bladder, she hisses and jerks back up when her bottom touches the cold seat. She clutches the counter next to her as she squats over the toilet, her legs feeling like they will collapse from under her at any moment. The pain from standing is almost as bad as the pain she feels when touching her ribs. There is no part of her that has not suffered.

After she pees, she contemplates turning on the shower, but she knows her body won't be able to take the steady pressure of the water pounding on her. So she wets a small hand cloth and carefully begins to wash the makeup off her face. She can only clean the left side of her face completely. She manages to scrub the right side from her chin up to the bottom of her nose, but any further and she encroaches on her bruise's territory.

When she decides she's done all she can, she wraps a towel around her body and exits the bathroom, peering down the hallway. Still no sign of Marcus. She walks back to the purple room, trying not to look at the bed as she makes her way to the armoire. She opens the doors, shocked to find about two dozen or so long, elegant dresses hanging. She lets her fingers run through them.

They're modern, from what she can gather, reminding her of the ones Sulpicia and Dora wear. _Of course_ , she thinks, _I'm a Wife, I'll have to dress like them now._ Demi leans over to open the drawers at the bottom. The top ones hold an impressive amount of expensive lingerie. _Who bought all of this?_ She conjures up an image of Marcus walking through a Victoria's Secret, and despite her circumstances, she giggles.

"I have missed that sound." Demi straightens instantly, spinning around and clutching her towel tighter as she meets Marcus' eyes. He's standing in the threshold, one shoulder propped up against the door. He looks relaxed, and there's a lazy smile on his face, but when she doesn't return it, the smile vanishes. "You should get dressed. The doctor will be here soon."

"The doctor?" _Dr. Chandler?_

"Yes."

"Why?" _Please, please don't let it be for more blood._

The question seems to make Marcus uncomfortable. His jaw clenches and he drops his eyes for a moment. _He almost looks...ashamed?_

"You cannot tell yet, but you've lost weight, Demi." His words shock her. She looks down at herself on impulse, almost laughing again when all she sees is the towel. "Nearly five pounds." _No way._ "You're thin enough as it is. Get dressed."

He turns and leaves the room, closing the door this time. Demi stares at where he stood for another moment or two before dropping the towel and slipping on the modestest pair of panties in the bunch, followed by a matching lacy bra.

Demi quickly thumbs through the dresses, displeased to find them all feeling of silk or chiffon. She wants to feel cotton on her skin. _Regular, good ole cotton._ None of the dresses seem very practical for a doctor's visit, so she settles for the plainest one she can find. As soon as the dress is over her head and sliding down her body, the door opens.

Marcus allows the doctor to walk in first and then he follows close behind, shutting the door firmly. Demi's heart races. Dr. Chandler gives her the same, easy smile he did two days ago. If he's taken aback or surprised by the giant bruise on her face, he doesn't let it show. He has a medium black bag with him and he walks confidently to the small sitting area.

"Come this way, Mistress," he says pleasantly. Demi startles at the word. There it is again, hanging in the air. Demi glances to Marcus, and his eyes are hard, firm, warning her to behave. Her ass still stings. She goes to the doctor.

He has set his bag down on the table and gestures for Demi to sit on the couch. She continues to stand, a blush heating her cheeks. Dr. Chandler doesn't notice right away, too occupied with looking around in his bag for something, but when he looks up he seems surprised to find her still standing.

Demi feels all consuming shame as he eyes her curiously. _Please don't make me say it, please don't make say it._ In the end, it is Marcus who clues the doctor in.

"I'm afraid my wife would feel more comfortable standing." Demi closes her eyes, not wanting to see Dr. Chandler's face when he finally processes what the words mean. Tears well in her eyes again. Her hands curl into fists and her nails press into her palms. She feels so _small_ , so... _less than human_.

When she finally opens her eyes, she surprised to see no malice or satisfaction in the doctor's eyes. Instead, he appears genuinely concerned for her. He looks at Marcus.

"How many times did you strike her, Master?" There is no censure in his voice, no hint of condemnation or disapproval.

"Fifty." Demi shudders hearing the number again. _Fifty_. It's a number that will haunt her for the rest of her life.

Dr. Chandler nods his head once. She thinks she can see his hands trembling ever so slightly. "With your consent, Master, I would like to see the marks." Demi gapes at the back of his head.

Marcus seems weary. "What for?"

"To check for any injury, Master. Human posteriors are padded nicely, but there is still the risk of long-term damage."

 _Please let this be some sort of sick joke. Please let me just die right now, with whatever dignity I have left._

"Fine," Marcus acquiesces. Demi looks at him in horror.

"Turn around, please, Mistress." Demi wants to scream at the man. _Stop calling me Mistress!_ It's on the tip of her tongue. _What's even the point, in supposedly being his better, if it won't stop him from humiliating me further?_ Demi shakes her head sternly, but then Marcus is stalking towards her and she flinches back in fright. He grabs her by her shoulders, turning her away from the doctor.

His hard glare convinces her to not put up a fight. She feels the doctor lifting up her dress and she bites her lip to stop herself from crying again. When he has the material bunched at her hip, Marcus takes it from him, holding it high above her navel. The doctor tugs her panties down to the top of her thighs.

Demi's attempt at not crying proves futile, and the tears stream down her face. The doctor, for his part, only looks at her for a few seconds before pulling the panties back up. Marcus drops her dress back around her, and it makes a slight _'swoosh'_ as it settles. He steps away from her but Demi makes no attempt to face Dr. Chandler again.

"The redness will disappear in a few hours. Bruises are already forming, but there does not look to be any serious damage, Master."

Demi whips her head around at this, glaring at the man. _No serious damage?_ She opens her mouth to correct him, to tell him all about the oh-so-serious-damage done to her, but she catches the sight of Marcus, standing beside the doctor, and she closes her jaw. _Fuck him!_ She's unsure exactly who it's directed to. _Fuck the both of them._

"I can give her some ointment though, to lessen the sting. Or ice, to prevent swelling."

"No," Marcus says firmly, his lips pursed as if disgusted by the very thought of easing her pain just the smallest bit. "She'll bear her punishment as she should."

 _Fuck the both of them_ , she thinks again.

Then the doctor proceeds to listen to her heart and lungs and check her blood pressure. Demi can't meet his eye. He frowns when he pulls the cuff from her arm, but doesn't say anything. He makes her follow his finger with her eyes, which proves to be difficult when she can't see past the large lump on the right side of her face. The doctor doesn't seem concerned with that bruising either.

"When was the last time you ate?" The doctor asks.

Demi takes a while to answer, trying to remember herself. "The day before yesterday," she finally settles on, remembering asking for food soon after Dora finished tailoring her dress. _Gosh, was that only two days ago?_

The doctor doesn't look pleased. "And the last time you drank any water?" Demi lifts her chin slightly, not needing to answer. Dr. Chandler sighs loudly and Marcus' pounces at the sound.

"What is it?" He demands.

The doctor looks to him. "She's not getting the nourishment she needs, Master. Humans should eat at least three times a day, and drink at least eight glasses of water. She's also not getting enough sleep, if the bags under her eyes tell me anything. Her body has gone through a tremendous amount of shock, Master. She needs fluids, a good meal, and rest."

Marcus' calculating eyes switch from him to her. He looks at her carefully, as if trying to decide if this is some trick of hers.

"This will allow for weight gain?" He asks. Demi chokes. _What is with his sudden concern for my weight?_ And then Demi remembers Sulpicia and Dora's words when they measured her. _I'm already thinner than Didyme was. He wants me to be as close to her size as possible._ She feels her rage return.

Dr. Chandler hesitates with his answer, and Marcus glowers at him. "Master, it will prevent further weight loss, but, as I said, her body is stressed right now. It's using all of it's energy to protect her in what it perceives is a hostile environment. It's not likely she'll be able to retain any of the calories she intakes. Regardless, she should rest for the rest of the day, if it's possible, Master. At this rate, she'll pass out soon."

Marcus' jaw twitches and a cold expression settles over his face. Demi's heart stutters. _He's angry at something. What is he so angry at?_

"That is all I require of you," he says coolly to Dr. Chandler. Without hesitation, the doctor packs up his things and nods once, already on his way to the door.

"Yes, Master. Mistress." And then he's gone. Marcus turns to her.

Maybe it's the angle which the light hits him, or the fact that anger enhances his sharp jaw and clean features, but her heart flutters again, this time not in fear. How can she still find him attractive, after everything he has done and will do to her? How can she see anything but a monster when looking at him?

"Get in bed," he growls at her. She hesitates, but when she sees his hand come up to grab her, she springs into action. She lets out a mewl and then side-steps him, walking past him quickly and moving toward the bed. Her movements are jerky and she wets her lips thinking about willingly laying down in bed anywhere near him, but she doesn't want him to grab her again. She tells herself it's because she's scared of the pain, or adding any new bruises. But really, deep down, she knows it's because she's scared she might just like the feeling of his hands on her.

 _No!_ She thinks firmly as she eases herself onto the bed, this time, underneath the covers. She groans as her ass makes contact. She tries to shift onto her hip, but her bones protest and her bruises throb. She rolls onto her stomach, but when she feels the shortness of breath start, she grabs two pillows and tucks them under her back, softening her seat as much as she can.

Marcus is watching from the center of the room, with a small smile on his face. _That bastard! He's fucking enjoying this._

Despite the soreness of her body, once she lays down in bed, Demi feels exceptionally better almost immediately. She is so tired. Her bones feel like rubber, and now that she is in bed, she doesn't think she could ever leave it. Marcus has now lost his smile, but he continues to regard her.

"I will send for some food," he tells her, his voice soothing her, lulling her, into closing her eyes. _How can he do this to me?_ She asks herself. _How can he, with his voice alone, simultaneously horrify and mollify me?_ "You may rest today."

And then the room is silent. Demi peeks out of one of her eyes to find Marcus gone and the bedroom door closed. She's too exhausted to worry about him or her reactions to him right now. She closes her eyes again.

She hated these sheets last night, pressed up against them and fighting for air, but actually laying in them, she realizes how nice they are. How soft they feel against her tender skin, how warm they make her body, how clean they smell….

When Demi wakes, her ass is throbbing in pain and her eye feels worse. She groans and sits up on her knees, re-fluffing the pillows beneath her. But she gives up on sitting on her ass anytime soon, so she climbs out of bed, unaware of the time. At the sitting area, waiting for her, is a tray of food. She walks over to it but doesn't feel particularly hungry. She remembers what the doctor said. A good meal or she'll pass out. Demi does still feel slightly woozy, so she knows she needs to eat, she just doesn't have a particularly strong desire to.

She eats a few bites but can't force any more. She does, however, drink the whole glass of water. She goes to the bathroom again, teetering over the toilet. Before leaving, she raises her dress and turns around, craning her neck over her back to try and catch a look at her butt. The bruising is bad, horrifying, even. She can't get a good view of the entire damage, but she can see enough to confirm what her body already feels: Marcus did not take mercy on her. Demi drops the dress with a shuddering breath and makes her way back to the bedroom. She doesn't see Marcus and already finds herself exhausted again. She climbs into bed and is back asleep within an hour.

* * *

Sulpicia wakes her up the next day, standing impatiently by the bed as Demi groggily opens her eyes. "Get up," Sulpicia says, pulling back the covers. "They're waiting for you."

"Wha?" But Sulpicia is already jerking Demi to her feet. Demi almost covers herself, on instinct now, but then she remembers that she's still wearing the (now very wrinkly) dress from yesterday. Sulpicia is giving her no time to compose herself, dragging Demi quickly out of the room. In the hallway to greet them is Dora and—very surprisingly—Felix.

Felix bows at Demi. "Mistress," he says. There's nothing about it that is overtly unkind, but something lurking in his voice makes the hairs on Demi's neck stand up. Before she can think too much about it, the group is moving down the hall and out of Marcus' wing.

Demi is the last one to cross the threshold into the marble room that separates into the three brothers' chambers. At first, all she sees is Felix's retreating back. Then she notices the three Wives' Guards. Corin and Afton are standing on either side of the elevator, hanging back against the walls. Santiago is standing in the middle of the room, holding the arm of a human girl.

Demi stops abruptly when she sees her. With a start, Demi realizes the girl looks like her. Not in a supernatural-doppelganger way, but in a we-have-similar-features way. The girl has brown hair, approximately the same length as Demi's, with a soft, round face, and clear skin. She has milk-chocolate brown eyes and a button nose. And the girl is crying, her fear clear as she leans away from Santiago, her hands trying to pull his fingers off of her.

Felix reaches the pair and turns sharply on his heel to look at Demi. "Do you know what a whipping boy is, Mistress?" He asks lightly, conversationally, even. For a moment, Demi remembers his calm reverence at her wedding, when he addressed Marcus. But the charm and civility he displayed then can not be found in his tone or posture now.

Demi absently shakes her head.

Felix nods his head once, as if he expected—no, _hoped_ —for this answer. "They were used mainly in English monarchies, and were particularly popular around the Tudor reign. They were a response to the idea of the divinity of kings. You see, if God appoints rulers, then the King, and by extension, the future king, would only have to answer to God. Not very practical, when dealing with disciplining and teaching a prince."

Demi glances at the girl, who is mostly silent but still crying in Santiago's hold. She's looking at Felix, but Demi can tell from her confusion that she doesn't understand what he's saying.

"Whipping boys were usually raised alongside the prince, receiving similar education and privileges. When a prince misbehaved, it was the whipping boy who was punished, and the prince watched, knowing he was the cause of his friend's pain."

Demi's heart is pounding in her chest. Felix smiles at her. He turns to the girl.

" _Comment vous appelez-vous?_ " He asks her, somehow making the soft language of French sound bitter and harsh.

The girl jumps slightly, whimpering. She doesn't answer. Demi watches Santiago jerk the girl closer. Immediately, she flounders in his arms.

" _Sandrine_!" She screams loudly. " _Je m'appelle Sandrine_!"

Felix is still smiling when he looks back at Demi. "This is your whipping girl, Mistress, Sandrine. Picked just for you."

Felix gestures and then Santiago lets go of Sandrine. Felix seizes her up almost instantly. Demi takes two steps forward, as if to stop him, but comes to a jerky stop. Sulpicia and Dora now stand slightly behind her, staying as silent as the three guards along the back wall, whose red eyes watch the scene carefully.

"Master Aro would like you to know that there are always consequences."

And then Felix grabs a fistful of Sandrine's shirt and tears. The sound echoes in open air. Sandrine cries out like a wounded animal.

Demi blinks, and she can't tell what's real anymore. Marcus' hands as he rips her wedding dress, the burning across her breasts as he pulls the fabric from under her; Felix throwing Sandrine's tattered shirt to a corner, the girl covering herself with her hands. The cold air on Demi's back; the girl shivering in fright. Marcus tearing off her skirt; Felix roughly pulling at the girl's jeans. How vulnerable Demi feels, with her legs exposed, only wearing her panties; the strange contrast between the dark denim around the girl's ankles and her bare thighs. The feeling of lace rolling off of her hips; the sharp sound of Sandrine's bra straps popping. Marcus' cold breath leaving goosebumps on her exposed ass; Felix snapping the cotton panty's elastic waistband. Marcus lifting her heels to pull her last garments off; Felix roughly shoving Sandrine to the ground and tugging her jeans and underwear off her ankles.

Demi blinks and registers that she's still wearing all of her clothes. _It's not real. It's not real. Those are memories._ But if Marcus and her are memories, than Felix and Sandrine _are_ real.

"Wait," Demi breathes out, the protest small. Her brain is processing the actions unfolding in front of her very slowly. _'There are always consequences.'_ Demi doesn't understand. She already had her consequences. She has the bruises on her ass and ribs to prove it.

 _Aro. Aro said there are always consequences. Aro, not Marcus. This has to do with Aro. What does this have to do with Aro?_

" _Sur vos coudes et les genoux_." _Wait, what?_ She doesn't know French. But Sandrine is responding to Felix's command, however hesitantly. The girl pushes herself up to her hands and knees.

Felix, standing high above, growls and pushes against her upper back with his foot. " _Les coudes!"_ He says again. The girl drops onto her elbows, her ass presented to Felix, her face in front of Demi.

Felix seems pleased. He lifts his foot from the girl's neck and sheds his cloak, tossing it behind him. Corin catches it with ease.

 _Pop_. Demi slowly returns her eyes to Felix. He's unzipping his black slacks. _Why is he getting undressed?_ He lets his pants sag to the floor, apparently not the least bit concerned by how silly he looks in just a plain black shirt and boxer-briefs.

" _S'il vous plaît,_ " Sandrine is repeating over and over again. Her body is shaking, her breasts swinging in the open air. " _Non, non, non._ "

Felix tugs down his underwear. Demi blanches, casting her eyes upward to the ceiling. Felix chuckles darkly. She can hear him moving, hear the dull sound of his knees hitting the floor, hear Sandrine's startled scream as he grabs her hip.

"Watch, Mistress." Demi's eyes land back on Felix. His fingers are thumping softly against Sandrine's back. "This only works if you watch," he chides gently. Adrenaline fills Demi's body, and her mind clears. She's no longer confused; she knows exactly what's happening.

"Please!" Demi gasps, stumbling forward slightly. She doesn't know what she plans to do; grab Felix and pull him away, comfort Sandrine, drop to her knees and beg? Suddenly, Afton is by her side, grasping her elbow and stopping her from moving. "I understand! I'll behave, I'll obey, I promise! Please, just, don't do this!"

Felix shakes his head in dismay, mockingly frowning. "You need to keep your eyes on her, Mistress. There are another three girls in the dungeon as we speak. If you close or take your eyes off of her, just once, I'll kill her and start over with one of them."

 _No! He's not listening to me!_

Felix starts to line himself up. He nudges Sandrine's legs apart with his knees. She's mumbling something, too garbled by her sobs and too fast for Demi to discern.

"Stop!" Demi screams at him. "Stop, stop, just stop! Wait, please!" Demi strains in Afton's hold. She can't watch this. _This can't be happening. The Brothers are fucked up, but not this fucked up, right? There's no way Aro or Marcus would let Felix rape this girl in front of me. This is going to stop soon. They scared me, they shocked me. Felix is going to stop any moment now._

But it doesn't look like he will. His hand on Sandrine's back pushes down, forcing her to arch back more. Demi can just see his other hand holding himself steady, moving closer…

"STOP!"

Demi's howl echoes in the room for several seconds afterward. Afton clutches Demi's elbow tighter, saying something to her, but Demi doesn't know what; she can't hear anything over the ringing in her ears.

Demi wants to look away. Never in her life has she ever wanted to look away from something more than in this present moment. But she doesn't dare, not with Felix's threat still fresh in her mind. Three other girls, brought to this castle solely because of Demi's actions. She has to protect them, anyway she can. She doesn't fully believe she'll be able to do it, to keep her eyes on Sandrine as she's raped. Marcus' words from yesterday suddenly come to her mind: _'_ _You will find that you can do much more than you thought possible, when you have no other choice.'_

And she truly has no other choice but to watch. So she flinches violently and turns her head slightly when Felix thrusts into Sandrine, but she does not look away. Demi's heart crumbles as she sees the fight almost instantly drain out of Sandrine's body. Demi watches in horror, straining forward in Afton's hold, as Felix slams into the girl, over and over.

It doesn't take long for Demi to realize that Felix is killing her. Where Felix grips her at the hips, bones begin to creak under the pressure. The constant slap of soft flesh against hard marble causes internal bleeding. After only a few seconds, several of Sandrine's bones break. But Demi can tell from the girl's silence that she doesn't have enough air to even scream. After a couple more thrusts, the girl's body concaves in a sickeningly unnatural way, like she has no bones in the lower half of her body. Felix's hands are the only reason her hips stay elevated. Despite the gruesome injuries, or perhaps because of them, Felix shows no sign of stopping. He looks nowhere but at Demi, a pleased smile on his face.

From somewhere, far away, over the ringing and the sound of rushing rapids in Demi's ear, she can hear someone screaming, "Stop, stop, please, dear God, stop!" But Sandrine's mouth isn't moving, and idly, in the back of her mind, Demi wonders who's begging. Perhaps one of the Wives. In the peripheral of her vision, she can still see Santiago and Corin behind Felix, watching impassively. She can feel Sulpicia and Dora right behind her. _Why isn't anyone stopping this?_

As Felix picks up his speed and intensity, signaling his closeness, blood begins to dribble out of Sandrine's nose and mouth. Shortly after, Sandrine's head jerks, her eyes go wide, and Demi just knows, somehow, that the girl is choking on her own vomit. Felix gives one more final thrust, dropping his head back and growling loudly, before he collapses on top of Sandrine. Beneath his weight, her spine breaks, and her heart finally gives out.

Afton lets go of Demi. She stumbles forward, falling to the floor. Felix pushes himself up, pulling out of Sandrine. Demi crawls toward the girl. "No no no no no."

In some ways, Demi tries to convince herself it's good Sandrine died. From the minute the Volturi got their hands on her, she was dead anyway. Better to die now, instead of being made to live and remember all the horrors Felix did to her body. In some ways, death is kind. The Brothers could have made Sandrine Demi's permanent "whipping girl", and then she would have been held as leverage and rapped anytime Demi misbehaved. That is no life.

But Demi can't make herself feel better. As she reaches Sandrine's broken body, pulling the girl's head into her lap, she decides that she doesn't deserve to feel better. She did this; she is the reason Sandrine was brutalized. Sure, Marcus and Aro and Felix played their parts, but Demi had been warned. Demi had been told there would be consequences if she caused a scene at the wedding, but Demi hadn't cared. She had thought those consequences would be taken out on her.

Around her, she knows there is activity. She knows Felix is zipping his pants up and Corin is handing his cloak back. She knows the Wives are saying something to the guards, but she can't focus on the words. Sandrine's face is smeared in her blood. Demi gently pushes the girl's hair back. Once again, she's struck by how similar Sandrine and her look. She wonders if that was a coincidence, or if Aro purposefully asked to be brought girls who looked like Demi. Demi's tears wet Sandrine's face and she cradles the girl's head softly. Her eyes are wide open, her gaze unfocused and her muscles relaxed, but Demi can still see the pain and terror in her expression.

"I'm sorry," she whispers to her. _You didn't deserve this._

Demi lets out a cry, her fingers curling around the sudden empty air, when Sandrine's body is jerked cruelly away from her. Demi looks up, glaring through her tears as Felix picks up the girl.

"No!" Demi scrambles up to stand, the vomit and blood clinging to her dress. She reaches a hand out to grab Sandrine, honestly contemplating having a tug-of-war with a vampire over the body, but Felix moves out of her reach, a smirk planted on his lips.

"My apologies, Mistress, but the Masters would hate to come home to the stink."

 _Fuck your Masters!_

"Please," Demi whimpers out instead, dropping her eyes to look at Sandrine's face again. "Please, she needs to—she deserves to be buried." Demi is surprised when the words leave her mouth. She never was particularly religious, and to be truthful, she didn't fully understand the importance that burial held to some people. _What did it matter, really, in death?_ But she wants Sandrine buried. She wants Sandrine respected, in a way she wasn't in life.

Felix looks at her with indifference. "We incinerate the corpses." Demi flinches. Before she can stop him, Felix has turned from her, slinging Sandrine's body over his shoulder as he does so. One of the guards must have already called for the elevator, because the doors are open for Felix when he gets there. He turns back to face Demi, giving her a mocking bow as he presses a button and the doors close.

Demi feels numb. Cold. Just seconds ago, she had the energy to challenge Felix, but whatever anger that fueled her in that moment is now gone. She feels woozy and makes the mistake of looking down at the marble floor. Sandrine's blood stares back at her against the white marble.

Demi turns suddenly and walks past Sulpicia and Dora, opening the door to Marcus' wing and slamming it shut behind her. She's relieved when no one makes an attempt to stop or follow her. On autopilot, she bypasses all the doors until she makes it to the bathroom. She closes the drain and starts the water, filling the tub. She peels out of her dress, holding the material in her hands. She looks at the vomit staining the fabric until the tub is almost overflowing. She drops the dress on the floor, turns off the water and climbs into the bath.

Water spills over the edges but she doesn't care. Her ass protests the warmth, but her muscles thank her, and she relaxes almost instantly. Her mind is curiously blank. She's not thinking of any one thing in particular. She feels oddly calm, detached. Her eyes lose focus on the surface of the water and her mind mirrors the silence of the room. There is no conscious thought that triggered the action. One moment her head is above water, and the next, she finds herself slipping underneath it. She doesn't fight what feels like a natural pull. She submerges herself completely, for the first time taking note of how big the bathtub is.

She keeps her eyes open, moving her hand around and watching as the light reflects on her skin. She likes how her body feels in the water, so free, so light, like no one can control her. Testing, she lets herself swallow a small amount of water. It feels wrong going down her throat and her lungs begin to yearn for air. Sadly, she lifts her head above the water, drawing in a few deep breaths before slipping under again.

She doesn't feel desperate under the water, even though she can't breathe. This is different from when Marcus' weight suffocated her. It still hurts—her lungs burn and her body and mind are fighting each other for control—but in a strange way, she likes it. In so many ways, being underwater is different than being with Marcus. Where Marcus is hard and cold, the water is flexible and warm. The water slows her movements, makes them sluggish, but it does not stop them completely. Water allows her to move as she wills. She feels safe in the bathroom, like her body is her own.

She sees movement above her, hears a sound, and then cold captures her arm again and hauls her up. She yelps, her hands trying to cover herself as she is thrown from the tub onto the stone floor. In a second, she feels a towel being haphazardly thrown over her shivering body. She clutches at it, pushing the wet hair out of her face. She's shocked to find Santiago standing above her, his cloak damp, glaring harshly.

"Are you trying to kill yourself?" He growls at her. Demi shakes her head. _Of course not!_ She thinks automatically, but then she notices how much her chest hurts. Her eyes widen slightly and then she starts gagging, coughing up some water. She can practically feel the water in her lungs. _Holy crap!_ How long had she been under the last time? Had she really been drowning herself, without even realizing it? Maybe she did want to die. Maybe she had been trying to kill herself. Demi stops shaking her head. She maneuvers the towel to better cover herself and, still looking down, shrugs.

Santiago makes a disgruntled noise and then puts his hand in the tub, pulling the drain up. He straightens and pulls her to her feet.

"You should rest, Mistress." Demi finds that Santiago's voice is not all too unkind. She smiles weakly and nods her head once. _Rest. That's just what the doctor ordered._ But she doesn't move from her spot in front of him. Sadness, reality, is creeping back in. Her eyes sting as she tries to blink back tears.

"How could he _do_ that?" Demi's voice breaks. Santiago just looks at her, almost with pity, and Demi finds it angers her. She lunges away from him, annoyed that she showed weakness so willingly.

She doesn't say another word as she leaves the bathroom and walks the few steps to the purple room. She doesn't bother with trying to dry her hair or putting on new clothes. She just crawls into the bed, pulls the covers over her, and stares at the ceiling.

The rest of the day is similar to yesterday, except she doesn't sleep as much. She's silent, withdrawn, and never leaves the bed. At some point, a servant brings her some food. Demi makes a better attempt at eating it, but she can only finish half.

Mostly, Demi remembers. Remembers the sound of Sandrine's bones breaking (which forces her to also remember the sound of the policemen's necks snapping), remembers Felix's unflinching words, remembers the blood and the way her face looked when it laid in Demi's lap. The worst thing she remembers is the sound of Felix slamming into her. Remembering leads to tears, so Demi tries her best not to remember.

She tries to focus her thoughts on other things, like how much she hates Felix. Felix, who is a smug asshole. Felix, who gets pleasure out of raping girls. Felix, who raped Sandrine ( _the sound of his body slapping against hers, the sound of her bones breaking under his weight_ ). _Stop!_ So then she thinks about how much she hates Aro. Aro, who said there are always consequences. Aro, who made Demi's consequence Felix rapping Sandrine to death ( _oh, God, the blood_ ).

She goes back and forth on these thoughts for the rest of the day. Eventually, utter exhaustion takes her and she falls asleep. She dreams of her and Sandrine, running through sewers full of vomit and blood, as giant shadows chase them.

When she wakes the next day, she's surprised to already find a plate of food ready for her. She picks through it, eating a few pieces of fruit but not much else. She uses the bathroom and washes her teeth. Thinking about taking another bath, her plans are derailed when she sees the bath drainer apparently ripped from the tub, making it impossible to fill with water. Or, if Demi is to guess what the true intention of the remodel is, to make it impossible for her to drown herself.

Demi returns to the room, slipping on a pair of panties and a modest camisole before going back to bed. She figures that with no vampires coming to wake her, it means that her oh-so-gracious captors are giving her another day to rest.

She fills the day by making a list of people she hates.

First: Felix. It's probably wrong to make Felix first on her list. Obviously, he was only the muscle behind the plan, simply fulfilling his role. But she can't put the man who killed Sandrine with his own hands any lower on her list than number one. Number two: Aro. He was the one who ordered Felix to kill Sandrine. Number three: Marcus. For spanking her, for stripping her, for humiliating her, for controlling her, for beating her, for kidnapping her, for stealing her future, for forcing her to marry him. Marcus is number three on her list for so many reasons.

Number four….She struggles with this placement for a moment. Fourth place on her list goes to whoever it was that brought Sandrine (and the three other girls) to the Volturi. Demi is about eighty percent sure that the Volturi sourced out that job to someone else. Like with the policemen. If that's the case, the person or people responsible for Sandrine being in this castle may already be dead. Either way, they're on Demi's shit list.

Number five is Caius, for general pissy and superior attitude. Tied for sixth are Sulpicia and Dora, for standing by and letting what happened happen. They could have stopped Felix, if they had really wanted to. They should have stopped Felix. How can a woman ever see that and not stop it if it's in their power? After realizing this, Demi switches Sulpicia and Dora with Caius on her list. To Demi, there can be no greater betrayal than women not fighting for each other.

In seventh place are her guards: Corin, Afton, and Santiago, for similar reasons as the Wives. They didn't stop what happened. They didn't seem the slightest bit concerned. Eighth place, by default, has to go to Demetri. He's the only other member of the Volturi that Demi has had any real interaction with. He killed the policemen, he helped kidnap her and bring her to Marcus. After that, ninth place and down is the rest of the Volturi.

Making the list helps Demi focus on other things, but eventually, her mind goes back to Sandrine. She's put everyone responsible for what happened on her hate list. Everyone, except one: herself. Demi can't deny it. Even though she was ignorant that _that_ was the punishment Aro would use on her, it doesn't change that it was Demi's actions that set everything in motion. It wasn't enough to Demi to disrupt the wedding and to say "no" during the ceremony, when asked if she promised ad finem. Demi had to go further, she had to interrupt Aro and tell him that she "didn't give a fuck". That was what led to Sandrine's life being stolen from her. That is why a young girl was raped: because Demi couldn't resist the urge to be flippant.

So, around dinner time, as a human servant wheels in Demi's new meal and takes the barely-touched lunch tray, Demi makes herself a promise. She will be stronger and smarter from now on. She won't give in, not completely, but she'll never allow her own pride to be the cause of someone else's death. She has to be more careful; she can't outright disrespect or disobey the Volturi Coven, especially not in front of the Guard. It will be hard, she will need to be stronger than she is now, strong enough to control her stubbornness and willfulness.

 _It will be my penance_ , Demi decides. _For killing Sandrine, I will temper myself. I will, bend_ _—_ _not break, but bend_ _—_ _to Marcus. I will endure whatever he asks of me. I will do this to protect others and to punish myself for killing Sandrine._

But Demi doesn't just make this promise to herself. She makes a promise to Sandrine, and to the three girls that were also taken. ( _Are they still alive? Have they been untouched?_ ) They will pay for what they did to her: Aro, Felix, Marcus, all of them. All of the Volturi will be punished for the death of Sandrine. Aro said there are always consequences, and he was right. There would be consequences for them. They might not feel them for a while, but Demi will make them regret killing Sandrine. Demi will make Marcus regret taking her and forcing her into this life.

She knows the next time Aro touches her hand, he will see her promises. She also knows he will probably find it funny. It will amuse him, to see Demi's promise of consequences. _Well fuck you,_ she thinks hotly. _Mark my fucking words, Aro, I will kill you._

Demi falls asleep thinking about watching the Volturi burn.

* * *

Demi knows she has slept for a long time when she opens them the next day. It's a harsh but familiar voice that wakes her. "Up," it commands simply. And her eyes open. With a jolt, Demi realizes that both of her eyes open fully, for the first time in three days. It makes her happy enough to almost make them opening to Marcus seem worth it.

He looks every bit as displeased as he did the last time she saw him. Gosh, how long had it been? Two and half days. Huh.

"Are you trying to starve yourself?" He asks her sharply. Demi furrows her brows, slowly pulling herself up, grogginess still clouding her thoughts.

"What?" She asks him. He sighs loudly, impatient. Once again, she is dragged out of bed by her arm and pulled out of the room. She stumbles down the hall, gnawing on her lip with every step he takes closer to the exit. She doesn't want to go back out to the elevator room. She doesn't want to see the marble where Sandrine died. Not yet. She's not ready.

But Marcus stops before at a different door, a door she has never been through. He pulls out a key and opens it, revealing a small, almost bare office. She can tell he doesn't use this one much. She can see the dust on the desk from the threshold, and the room looks dingy and unkempt. But right inside the door, lined on the floor against the wall, are her meal trays from the past few days. There are five of them, virtually all the food untouched.

 _Oh._

"Are you trying to make a point?" Marcus roughly asks, his voice gruffer than usual. God help her, but Demi likes his gruffness. "Starving yourself to anger me? Santiago says you tried to drown yourself the other day."

"No!" Demi protests, not wanting him to get any ideas that she needs to be punished again. She looks from the food to him, trying to keep her expression open and calm. "I'm not trying to _—_ I guess—I mean, I'm just not that hungry."

Marcus looks at her questionably. "The doctor said you needed to eat more."

Demi swallows audibly. "I probably should," she admits weakly. "It's just my appetite hasn't really been there…." Demi trails off, thinking of all the things she's seen that have stolen her appetite.

Marcus scowls, yanking her out of the office. "Nonetheless, you will eat all the food given to you. Your breakfast is with Sulpicia and Dora. Get dressed and go to them." Marcus turns from her, marching to the exit, leaving Demi in the middle of the hall.

She turns away before he opens the door, before she can get a glimpse of the marble floors and walls on the other side, and she walks back to the room. She doesn't waste time. She doesn't see the point. She quickly grabs a silky, slim dress and pulls her hair back into a high ponytail. In the bathroom, as she brushes her teeth, the lights make her yellowing-bruise on around her eye look transparent.

She has to steady herself with several deep breaths before she finds the courage to tug the door out of Marcus' wing open. She keeps her head high, her eyes zeroed in on Sulpicia's door. She doesn't even glance at the Wives Guard milling about, nor the marble floor. When she gets to Aro's wing, she doesn't bother to knock; the door opens easily to her and she scurries inside.

There to greet her is Dora and just like that, Demi is back to her old routine. She finds comfort in it, strangely, as she passes the day sitting beside Dora and Sulpicia in the seating area of Aro's bedchamber. Fortunately, the Wives do not make mention of either one of Demi's punishments, not even when Demi jumps to her feet every hour or two, after her ass can no longer take the pain of sitting.

Instead, Demi learns why the windows of the Volterra Castle are so heavily tinted ( _sparkling vampires, great_ ). The Wives also tell Demi about the strange cry the Guard made during the toast: _'Al fine._ ' The Italian equivalent, roughly, of 'to the end'. So the Guard takes the same vow, but it's lesser, and separate than the Coven one. And it's less final. "To the end for them simply means until we no longer need their services," Sulpicia tells her.

Eventually though, Demi asks the one question plaguing her. "The girl" _—_ No, that's not right _—"_ Sandrine. Was she a leftover from a tour group?"

The Wives, to their credit, seemed to expect the question. "No, my dear. We sometimes take part in the lucrative business of human trafficking. Not too much, because the risk is high, but when we need an extra human or two."

 _The lucrative business of human trafficking_. _That is how she describes the buying and selling of people. Slavery equals a lucrative business. And Sandrine is seen as just a product of that business._

Demi makes another list in her head:

Number One: Destroy the Volturi.

Number Two: Destroy the Italian Slave Trade.

 _Easy_.

* * *

When Sulpicia and Dora stand suddenly, Demi mimics them, turning her eyes to the door just as it opens. Aro enters first, Sulpicia zooming over to greet him, much as she did on Demi's third night here. Caius is close behind him, and Dora walks much slower to him, much more seductively. Demi tears her eyes from them as Marcus appears.

She takes a big breath and then walks toward him, trying to stop her body from shaking. _You can do this_ , she tells herself. _You've already done this before. Just two kisses to his cheeks._

But when Demi leans forward on her tippy-toes, Marcus moves his head down, firmly touching his lips to hers. She jerks away almost immediately, startled. He has a tight smile on his face. The kiss is no different than the one they shared at their wedding, but for some reason, it seems much more intimate.

Marcus draws Demi close to his side as he lounges back on the couch. She's tempted to push him away, but she doesn't. _This is my penance_ , she reminds herself. She can deal with sitting beside Marcus. She can do this. She deserves this.

Aro and Sulpicia and Caius and Dora take up their same spots from the night before her wedding, clinging to each other in comfortable intimacy. It's so different from the way Marcus and her interact. Even when he initiates contact, there's a certain awkwardness to his moves and touch. Demi reminds herself that he hasn't been like this with someone in two thousand years. Of course he's a little out of practice.

Once everyone is settled, Aro addresses Demi. "Your parent's arrived in Volterra today." It takes Demi a second to comprehend what he is saying.

"What?" She asks. Aro gives her a condescending smile. ( _Aro, who ordered Sandrine to be raped to death because you basically told him to fuck off._ )

"Your parents, they are Barbara and Tom Harris, correct?" Demi nods her head slowly. "They checked into a hotel today—in fact, the very hotel you were staying at—apparently to investigate your disappearance."

Demi does not know how to respond to this information. Her parents are here, in the same city she is being kept prisoner in. She glances at the windows, hidden behind heavy curtains. If she could see outside, could she see their hotel?

 _Already?_ She can't help but think. Her parents are already here. With a start, Demi realizes today is her seventh day and eighth night with the Volturi. A week. She's only been here for a week. It seems like it's been much longer. How can everything that has happened to her only happen in a week? How can the world change so much, so fast?

She looks at Marcus next, trying to decide what this means for her. _Does this mean anything?_ His face is blank, so she switches back to stare at Aro with horror. _Why is he telling me this?_

His smile softens, and he actually looks _kind_ for a moment. "No need to worry, dear, Claire tells me they do not suspect any foul play in this city. They are simply here to see if they can determine where you set off to next. They will find the clues Demetri and Felix left, and this will lead them away from the city. I have no desire to kill your parents, Demi. It would be such a senseless act of violence."

"Claire saw them arrive?" Demi clarifies.

"Oh, yes. There is not a thing that happens in this city that Claire, and by extension I, do not know. Of course, I had told Claire to focus on your parents, even when they were in Ohio, so I knew of their coming in advance."

Once again, Demi does not know what to think. On one hand, she is excited by her parents being in the city. She always knew they would not let her sudden disappearance go without a complete investigation. She thinks (perhaps naively) that if her parents are in town, there is a greater chance of the truth coming out. Surely, there has to be some kind of evidence suggesting that Demi never left the city, and that she never checked out of her hotel room either.

"However," Caius pulls Demi's attention towards him. Dora's head is resting against his chest. "The second they, or you, become a problem, they die."

Demi glares at him, and Caius meets her with his own cool gaze. Aro steps in, giving Caius a reproachful look.

"Yes, yes, of course. I am sure Demi understands how we could not let them leave if they had any hint of what truly happened. Don't you dear?" _No!_ Demi wants to scream at him. _No, I do not understand, you psychopath!_

Instead, Demi nods her head once. "Splendid!" Aro cries.

"Enough about the human," Sulpicia snarls, and she grabs Aro's cheeks, pulling his lips towards hers. He smiles and allows her to kiss him. The display, while no more sensual than their usual greeting, inspires Dora and Caius as well. Dora lets out a playful squeal as Caius grabs her chin and crushes his lips against hers. Her gleeful sound turns into a lustful moan and she gives into him, her body melting against his hold.

Demi stiffens in her seat next to Marcus, her jaw dropping. _Not this again._

Aro and Sulpicia draw her attention as she looks at them from beneath her eyelashes. Aro is on top of Sulpicia, holding himself up by his hands placed around her head, trapping her beneath him. Sulpicia seems to like it, as one leg is hitched around his waist, keeping him pressed against her hips. Demi gasps. _What is this, an orgy?_

As she watches, the scenes turn more and more graphic. Caius starts tearing at Dora's clothing as she moves him towards the bed—Aro and Sulpicia's bed. But the other couple doesn't seem worried as they tangle around each other's bodies. Sulpicia has somehow managed to pull Aro's dress pants down around his ankles, and he growls as he bites her lip.

Demi wants to gag. She glances at Marcus, hopping he will allow her to leave. He, however, is not looking at her. He's watching Caius and Dora, now both fully naked, roll around on the bed. Demi flinches at the sounds Aro and Sulpicia are making—the groans, the strange echo of stone grinding against stone. The sound reminds Demi of Sandrine's face, red with lack of oxygen, as Felix pounds into her.

She stands suddenly, drawing Marcus' attention back to her. He stares at her, silent and appraising, and she clears her throat nervously. The brothers and wives do not stop their love making. Blushing, she doesn't look to where the moans come from.

"Marcus," she begins, her voice pleading, but she doesn't say anything else. She doesn't know what she would say. She throws a wild glance at the door, certain that he knows what she's asking. But when she looks back at him, her eyes meet his chest, and he is standing mere inches from her. She jumps back, startled, the back of her knees hitting the table. There is a strange look on Marcus' face. An emotion Demi cannot place….

"You are so beautiful," Marcus whispers quietly, capturing her face in his hands. He cradles it, incredibly gentle and softly. For a moment, she is lost. She forgets who—what—he is, and what surrounds her, and his red eyes, usually repugnant to her, capture her. She is so dumbstruck by his ungodly (or very godly) beauty, that she misses the final clue. She misses the crucial shift in his eyes, and by the time she notices it, Marcus is already too far gone.

In an instant, his hands cradling her face slip around; one grasps the back of her neck and skull, and the other hand grips her right hip, squeezing her hard. She winces, spasming, as he grabs skin still tender from his earlier abuse. Her eyes widen in alarm as he pulls her towards him for a kiss. This kiss is not like the one from earlier tonight, nor like from their wedding; Marcus possess her with this kiss. He is not chaste and considerate. His tongue invades her mouth and explores her mercilessly, pushing hard against her.

She squeals against his lips, but the sound is muffled and easily ignored. Her hands reach his chest and push against him but this does nothing. In fact, if anything, this only leads to Marcus to pull her tighter against his body. Now, she can feel him, _there_ , pressing against her in the most threatening of ways. He holds the kiss for a long time, never giving her a chance to pull away, and when he does finally release her, her head is pounding and her vision is blurry from the lack of oxygen.

 _Why is it that I can never breathe when I'm around him?_

When he finally lifts his head from her lips, she gasps in big gulps of air. Immediately, he begins attacking her jawline and throat. In between the kisses, and small, ever so careful, love bites, he moans her name. Or rather, the name of the woman he believes her to be. "Didyme," he groans.

 _Oh, fuck me_. It is clear now to Demi what is happening; Marcus has forgotten himself, and more importantly, he's forgotten who she is (and who she isn't, namely, Didyme). To her knowledge, this hasn't happened since her first night here.

As he feathers kisses down her collarbone, she looks around him. Behind her, she can hear Caius and Dora, but she sees Aro and Sulpicia. Aro is still on top of his very-consenting wife, enjoying himself with disgusting vigor. But she forces herself to stare at the pornography, and finally Aro lifts his head.

He doesn't stop thrusting into his wife as he holds Demi's stare. She opens her mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. She doesn't need to speak. He knows, from the location of Marcus' mouth and her stiff posture, that she wants him to help her, to rescue her from him. He grins wickedly at her, holding her gaze for several more seconds, before bowing his head to capture his wife's tit. Swallowing her terror, she looks away, and focuses back on her own husband, who is making his way back up to her lips.

In a sudden movement, Marcus picks her up and carries her away from Aro and Sulpicia, and when she opens her eyes again, he has her bent over the bed. Panic takes over. Too much like before; too much like when she was smothered. Purple sheets; gold sheets. _What's real?_ Demi blinks. Less than a foot in front of her, Dora is riding her husband, panting and snarling and magnificent in her pleasure. Demi gasps at the sight, and scrunches her eyes shut in a pathetic attempt to block everything out. _Gold sheets is real_ , Demi decides. _Aro's bed. Not Marcus'. I can breathe fine._

When she feels Marcus' hands on her hips, her eyes pop open and she realizes her precarious position. Her hands are in front of her, flat against the bed, allowing her to hold her head up, but it forces her ass against Marcus.

"No!" She finally cries out as his hands skim over her legs until they find the hem of her dress. She pushes herself up but Marcus cruelly shoves her back down and growls loudly at her. His hands begin pulling the hem up toward her hips and she thrashes. In front of her, Dora and Caius don't even spare her a glance.

"Stop!" She screams as Marcus' cold hands lift her dress up. She is already sobbing, and her fear chokes her. She is not about to join this weird, strange vampire orgy sex rampage! "I'm not Didyme! Stop, Marcus. I said no!"

Marcus pauses at her pleas, with her dress midway up her thighs, and he leans over her.

"You wish for a struggle, dear?" He mutters quietly into her ear. Demi's only response is to sob, and she violently shakes her head back and forth. "I'll play along," he chuckles darkly, ignoring her reluctance.

His hands pull the dress up quickly, revealing panties. _Too much like before._ "No! No! Marcus, stop!" He flings the hem of her dress up against her back. Desperately, she looks to Dora, to Caius, to anyone. "Please! Please don't let him do this!" No one helps. She sobs, thrashing in his hold.

She knows what her fate is; she escaped it on her wedding night, but it does not look like she will escape it tonight. _This is my penance_. She knows it's a terrible thing to think, but she almost feels like she deserves this. But a much larger part of her doesn't want this to happen, can't let this happen. Her fear won't let her just accept this. Her weak kicks do nothing to throw Marcus off of her. She lands a few of her blows on his shins, but it only hurts her.

His hands slide her panties down her legs. Purple sheets. _No, no Demi, gold sheets. Focus, you have to stay in the present._

She reaches back in one, last, desperate attempt to either grab his hands or pull her panties back up. One cold hand easily intercepts hers and he jerks her arm to rest on the small of her back. But something goes wrong; he uses too much strength (understandingly as well, since he does believe her to be his vampire wife), and when he jerks her arm up, there is a loud _snap_ followed by a _pop_.

The pain comes only a second later. Demi lets out an ear-shattering scream and just as quickly, Marcus' weight on her body is lifted. She collapses to the ground, her dress falling back around her hips as her panties remain tangled around her knees. She turns to rest her back against the bed, and through her blurry, tear stained vision, she sees Marcus against the back wall, Aro and Caius on each of his flanks, restraining him. His eyes are intently centered on Demi, but he looks confused. That's all she can focus on before her attention turns to her arm.

Demi's face twists as she silently screams. Big, heaving sobs shake her body and for a few seconds she thinks Marcus has simply torn her right arm completely off. She can't move it, and while she can see it physically still attached to her body, it hangs twisted and limp in an unnatural way. Something is wrong, seriously wrong. The shooting pain in her shoulder is not dulling with every passing second, in fact, it is getting progressively worse.

She stares up at her husband, being restrained by his brothers. Aro and Caius still remain naked, and for a second Demi is shocked that they stopped their coupling to pull Marcus off of her. They hadn't cared about her when he was simply going to rape her. In the corner of her eye, she can see Dora and Sulpicia standing together, completely naked.

Aro steps forward, and Demi cringes against the bed. He doesn't let it stop him from moving forward. Demi's eyes switch between him and Marcus, trying to decide who she should be more worried about. Aro crouches in front of her, surveying her arm. He keeps his eyes on hers as his hands move down to where her panties hang around her thighs. Demi closes her eyes in shame as he pulls them up, lifting her hips to fully cover her.

"Shh, my dear," he whispers softly. He then makes some kind of sound that Demi cannot place, like a whistle almost in its pitch. The door to his chambers opens and the Wives' Guard is standing in the room.

If they are surprised to find their masters and mistresses in their current state of undress, they do not let it show. Aro does not take his eyes off of Demi as he addresses them.

"Some clothes, please, Santiago." Aro's voice is soft and patient as he gives the command. Demi doesn't see him leave. Aro stands. "Afton, take Demi to the doctor. Carefully."

Santiago is back, handing clothes to Aro and then to Caius. He tosses two sheer robes to Sulpicia and Dora. Demi doesn't know where to look—in front of her, Aro and Caius are tucking their rather large erections into surprisingly casual jeans. Before she can gather the courage to glance at Marcus, Afton is in front of her, his red eyes indifferent.

"Can you walk, Mistress?"

Behind him, Aro signals the others to follow him as he leaves the room. The wives scurry after him, but Caius waits for Marcus to break his stare at Demi before the duo walk away. Demi watches the back of her husband as he retreats from her, as he walks away from the damage he has caused.

"No," Demi finally responds, faintly. She returns her eyes to Afton. "I—I don't think I can."

He doesn't say a word as he lifts her into his arms gingerly. Normally, Demi would grumble at the closeness, but the pain in her arm keeps her from rejecting his help, and she rests her head against his chest. It seems like only seconds when the elevator doors open to the human's floor.

When Afton opens the exam room door, Dr. Chandler is already there. He looks like he was just roughly pulled from his bed; his hair is ruffled, his eyes tired, and his clothes wrinkled.

"Lay her down here, please." Afton bends his knees to place Demi down on the examination table. Beside her crying, Demi is silent as the doctor examines her arm. He doesn't touch her, but does ask her to rate the pain from one to ten. _Ten, for sure._ "We'll do an X-ray to confirm," he decides. To confirm what, he doesn't tell Demi.

Dr. Chandler opens up some cabinets and unfolds an x-ray machine. He positions her carefully, never making her move her arm, as he takes several shots of the shoulder. Even with this gentleness, she still curses with each shift in position. For their part, Afton and the doctor just let Demi sit there and cry.

Dr. Chandler leaves for a few minutes with the film, and comes back soon after with a frown on his face. Demi knows this isn't good.

"Your shoulder is dislocated," he tells her, going to the sink to wash his hands. Demi takes a steadying breath and tries not to focus on the fact that it was her _vampire husband_ that did this to her. "Easiest thing to do is to reduce it."

This time, Demi sits up straighter, narrowing her eyes at the doctor as he turns back to face her. She has seen enough episodes of _Grey's Anatomy_ and _House_ to know what 'reduce the shoulder' means.

"Is that the only treatment?" She asks, but the doctor is already moving for her.

"Hold her down," he commands Afton. She feels him move in closer. Demi struggles to sit up. "Stop!" Dr. Chandler snaps at her. "It will be easier if you stay still. Grab her good shoulder and hold her around the chest," he addresses Afton again. And then Demi feels the cold hand on her left shoulder, pressing her into the table. A hard forearm weighs her down across her chest and she kicks her legs out, flailing. Afton's arm presses against her bruised ribs, and more tears spill out of Demi's eyes.

"No, no, no," Demi chants, but the doctor is already hovering over her shoulder. She makes one more desperate cry to stop him as he grasps the arm. "Fuck!" She screams.

"Calm down," he tells her. His voice is steady, unnerved, determined. "On three, okay?" She shakes her head back and forth. "One," he says. There is a crack and her arm twists.

 _Holy motherfuck of god!_ Demi screams out, and screams out again. Getting her shoulder popped back into place hurts almost as much as getting it popped out did. After several more shrieks, she sags against the table. Afton's arms release her and she curls into herself, her sobs shaking her frame.

The doctor allows her to stay like this for some time, but after her cries stop and her tears dry, he helps her sit up and places her shoulder into a sling.

He hands her two pills and a glass of water. She swallows them without question. As he takes the water from her, he passes her a bottle of pills. "Two every four to six hours. Not on an empty stomach. Understand?" Demi nods her head.

With his assistance, she gets down from the table. She keeps her eyes on the ground as Afton leads her back to the 3rd floor. If he's annoyed by how slowly she walks, he doesn't give it away. She doesn't want to go back to her prison. She hopes Marcus isn't there when she gets back. She doesn't think he will try anything again, not tonight, not with her arm cradled against her chest in a sling, but she isn't positive.

But when the elevator doors reveal Aro waiting for her in the marble room, she knows her bad luck has continued. He doesn't give any sign that he has registered her injury. _At least he isn't smiling_ , she thinks bitterly as she walks forward. Afton stays in the elevator, and the doors close on him, leaving her alone with Aro.

She stops a couple feet away from him. His gaze travels up her body once. "I would like to apologize, my dear, for tonight. Things got out of hand and that should not have happened."

Demi's brows furrow. She remembers his smile when Marcus began kissing her. She remembers Caius and Dora's non-stop love making when she screamed for help.

"You were going to allow him to—" She stops suddenly, remembering that this is the man who ordered Sandrine raped. Aro looks cautious as he appraises her.

"You are his wife," he tells her simply. Her stomach clenches and she sweeps her eyes to the ceiling, blinking back tears. _Of course. I'm talking to a man who believes one cannot rape their wife._ "I was surprised when he did not immediately consummate the marriage. Two thousands years is a long time not to partake in sex."

"What exactly are you apologizing for?" Demi snaps at him. She's exhausted; too tired to play nice with Aro, too tired to decipher his words.

"The Volturi, above all, value control, Demi. You do not think very highly of us, but amongst our people, we are considered very civilized. We are known for our control. And tonight, Marcus lost control. He did not intend to hurt your arm, but he forgot himself. I can not promise that it will never happen again; you look too much like her for there not to ever be slips. But I can promise that if those times come, you will be protected from him."

Demi doesn't respond. She starts walking past him, to Marcus' rooms, but Aro grabs her good elbow, pulling her against him.

"He is not a cruel man," he whispers into her ear. "Marcus has always been the softest of us. He never raised a hand to Didyme. Not once. Loneliness and grief have changed him, but he is still that gentle man, if only you would allow him to show you."

Demi jerks her arm away from him, and he gives her a small smile. He lifts his chin toward the door. "Go on, my dear. He is waiting for you."

Demi turns away. She is startled to find Marcus waiting for her just on the other side of the door when she opens it. They make eye-contact briefly, but then Demi is walking determinedly past him.

"How is your shoulder?" Her husband—and attacker—asks as he follows Demi down towards their bedroom.

"It hurts," she deadpans. As she moves further into the room, she sets down the pills next to the bed. She turns to face him, finding him standing in the threshold.

"Your change will be initiated in two days," he tells her evenly, not looking at eyes are on the medication. Demi's eyes bulge and her jaw drops.

"My—my change?" She sputters out. She moves forward, tripping slightly. She's not sure where she plans to go.

"Your change into a vampire," he continues, not even glancing at her. His brows are furrowed. "I will bite you, starting the change, the day after tomorrow."

"No." The word is out before Demi even thinks about it. Marcus' lips quirk up, but he doesn't say anything. He finally looks at her. No. No, no, no. He can't do this. "You promised me two weeks!"

Marcus loses his smile. "I promised you nothing," he snarls out. His body is tense, but he still hasn't moved from the doorway.

"You can't do this!" She throws at him, desperate.

"I can do whatever I please with you. I was not asking you, I was telling."

Demi feels like the world is spinning around her. She stumbles back against the bed. Her shoulder is throbbing, but she feels numb.

"Why?" Demi's voice is shrill. Marcus' eyes narrow, and they dart from the bottle of pills, to her arm in the sling, and finally settle on her face again.

"I wanted you to become accustomed to this place, because vampires do not adapt well to change. It has been decided that you have been given enough time to adjust to your new life here. You are also a...liability as a human."

Her body is shaking. She feels cold, like her heart has already stopped beating. But she knows that's not true, because she can hear it in her ears. She feels dizzy; Marcus' figure is undefined, blurry, and is swaying before her. No, he's not swaying, she is.

"I don't want to be one," she says faintly. He doesn't react to her words. _Why is everything spinning?_ Maybe it's the pain meds, or maybe she needs to eat. _Have I eaten today?_ Demi can't remember. _Am I in shock? Do vampires experience shock? Is this the last time I will ever feel like this?_

Marcus opens his mouth to say something, but Demi doesn't hear it. She lays back against the bed. _Two days. Forty-eight hours of humanity left._ Demi closes her eyes and likes the way the black steals her away from reality.

* * *

 **Words:** 15,252

 **Author's Note:** (No beta, forgive any mistakes, please and thank you.) Thanks for reading, now you see where my warnings/author's notes from the first chapter come in. I promise not to rely on rape as a plot device nearly as much as _Outlander_ does. Anyway, please review. I think FF might be messing up with reviews, so sorry if you did review last time and it's not on the website. Please try again this time or, if you really want to make sure it goes through, PM me. I will respond to any questions you have that way as well. One more chapter in Part One (technically). Hopefully have that up before July ends. I've got a lot to write.


	6. P1, Ch6: Escape (Demi6)

**Part One, Chapter Six: Escape (Demi POV #6)**

 **P1. Ch6: Escape (Demi6** )

* * *

When Demi wakes, she feels clear headed and rested. She stretches, wincing at the renewed pain in her shoulder. She sits up, struggling to see in the low light. _What time is it?_ To her, it feels like she slept for at least ten hours. She doesn't remember the last moment she has felt so relaxed.

 _How much time do I have left as a human?_

It quickly becomes clear to her what woke her up: her arm is killing her. She needs to take more pain medication, but she knows she should eat first. She blinks in the darkness. _Where is Marcus when I need him?_

"Marcus?" She calls out. Nothing. She stands from the bed, grabbing the pills as she makes her way out of the room. The hallway is even darker, and Demi fumbles her way toward the exit, clinging to the wall. She tests every door on her way out, but the only one unlocked is the bathroom. There is still no sign of Marcus.

When she opens the door out of Marcus' wing, she expects to see the Wives' Guard, and is shocked to find the marble floor empty. She stands there for a moment or two, her eyes shooting to Aro's wing, certain that the Wives are going to come out of the door any second and whisk her away.

But as the seconds tick by she wonders where everyone is. The pain in her shoulder is getting worse as the last of the grogginess leaves her. She can't just wait for someone to appear. She needs some relief soon, and she needs to eat first. She slowly walks to the elevators. Her hand shakes as she presses the 'down' button.

It takes several seconds for the doors to open, and she braces herself to see red eyes on the other side. But the elevator is as empty as the third floor. Her heart is loud in her ears as she steps into it, pressing the button for level 'R'.

Maybe she's mistaken about how long she's been asleep. Even so, what would make the Guard leave their position? The only answer is that the other wives are somewhere else. Still, as paranoid as Marcus is, wouldn't he leave someone to watch her?

Her jaw drops when the doors open to an empty servants' room. It's very dark in here, the only light coming from the elevator. _Is it still early morning? Have I slept for over 24 hours?_ If that's true, she only has another 24 hours of humanity left. The thought shakes her.

She steps out of the elevator, squinting her eyes in the darkness as the doors close. She fumbles around the scarce furniture, trying to be as quiet as she can. It takes her times to find the kitchen, which is behind a door at the back of the hall. Luckily, the light switch is right inside the room, and she blinks as her eyes re-adjust to the brightness.

She stares at the impressively modern, industrial kitchen appliances for a moment, before making a beeline for the refrigerator. She plans on finding some fruit, but when she takes a peek in the freezer and sees the buckets of ice cream, she decides there's nothing else she'd rather be her last meal.

As she hunts for a spoon, she wonders what will happen to her if Marcus, or a member of the Guard, finds her down here. Maybe even one of the human servants would get her in trouble. _Well it's not my fault_ , she rationalizes as she finds a spoon. _I need to eat to take my meds, and no one is here._

She pops her pills back, and eats a few bites of the vanilla ice cream before she processes what last thought. No one is here. The realization is sudden: _I haven't seen one vampire._

Demi forgets. After a week of witnessing unforgettable horrors, of experience life-changing and earth-shattering events, Demi forgets all of it in an instant. Faced with an overbearing amount of hope, adrenaline floods her brain. _I can leave!_ She doesn't give a moment to think about the consequences, even as her body bares the reminders from her last lesson. No, instead, she forgets.

Demi forgets Sandrine, she forgets that it was her own actions that led to the girl's death. Demi forgets the promise she made to Sandrine. Demi forgets about her penance. She forgets about revenge for the girl. Demi forgets about the spanking, about how desperate she was to forever avoid an other one. Demi forgets about her parents, still in town. She forgets about Caius' threat to kill them. Demi forgets about Demetri and Claire, about how pointless an escape would be, when the Volturi could still see every move she makes and track her every step around the world.

How can Demi remember any of that, with the face of opportunity and freedom staring right at her? No more red eyes. No more fear.

Demi is moving; leaving the open ice cream on the counter, exiting the kitchen, maneuvering her way back to the elevator in the low light, her bottle of pills jingling in her hand. She thinks of her mental map. Level "L" is how she entered; it is her best chance of leaving. Her whole body is shaking in anticipation for the short ride up one level. She tries not to be too hopeful. At any moment, a vampire could appear and steal away her future. But somehow, miraculously, none does.

When the elevator doors reveal the tight hallway, Demi rushes out. It was only a week ago that Demetri and Felix were hauling her toward the very lift she just exited. Now, she's running back toward the large doors, back to the courtyard, and the gates. _The courtyard where the policemen were killed._ Thinking about the policemen's deaths makes Demi remember Charles, the elderly gentleman who greeted her captors warmly and promised to dispose of the officers' bodies.

 _Shit!_ _If he's sitting at the desk at the mouth of the tunnel, he'll raise the alarm._ But Demi's almost there, and it's too late to stop now. When she rounds the corner, Charles' desk is empty, the lamp off. _Thank you, God._

There's a small, digital clock sitting on the empty desktop: 1:26 am. _Holy shit._ Demi had slept for less than she originally estimated. Way less. _Maybe only an hour or two_.

The sight of the desk makes Demi suddenly realize how unprepared she is for her escape. She needs appropriate clothing, not the dress she currently has on now. She needs money. She needs a passport. She looks down at her feet; she needs shoes. There's no time to go back up to Marcus' room and find any of that. Luck has been on her side since she woke up, so she takes the chance and opens all the drawers in the desk. By some miracle, she hits the lottery.

It makes sense, in retrospect, Demi justifies as she looks at the stacks of currencies in Charles' top drawer. Charles takes care of their business, Volterra Tour Guides, as well as the Volturi's property. He's the gatekeeper, in a way, to the Castle, and thus, might also be the person the Guard goes to when they need money or cover for a mission.

Demi pulls out three stacks of euros, guessing that there has to be about 5,000 euros in each stack. She pulls out two more stacks of American dollars and sets them on the desk counter. In the next drawer are Italian passports, dozens of them. Demi opens the top one and recoils when she sees Aro staring at her with murky brown eyes. The next few in the pile are Caius, Marcus, Dora, and Sulpicia. She's just starting to contemplate closing the drawer and moving on when she opens the next passport and finds herself.

VALKYRIE, DEMI the name reads. But the picture is her old passport picture. She's smiling wide, happy, carefree, and unaware of her future. Demi swallows hard and grabs the passport. The third drawer has maps. Demi glances at the top one.

NORTH AMERICAN LOCATIONS, UPDATED: JUNE 31ST. On the map are red dots, with the city name and then other letters next to them. In Mexico, there are a dozen or so red dots, stretching from the top of the border all the way to the tip of the country. In America, there are a plethora of dots. EL PASO, TX: Charlotte, Peter (N, Cu). LAPUSH, WA: Quileute Shapeshifters (Cu). DENALI NAT'L PARK, AK: Denalis, Garrett (Cu). And in Canada, more dots. But one dot sticks out to Demi. HUDSON, QC: Cullens.

Demi memorizes the information. Hudson, Quebec, Canada. That's where the Cullens are. Or, at least, were, one month ago. The fourth drawer holds a dozen or so car keys. Demi thinks about taking one, but she has no idea where the cars are kept and doesn't know if she has the time to search for them. There are three worn-out and well-used backpacks lying underneath the desk. Demi grabs one and stuffs her cash passport, and pill bottle into it.

She moves away from the desk, glancing back down the long hallway. There's still no sign of any vampires. She takes a steadying breath and faces the large doors. She unlocks them, wincing as the sound echoes in the tunnel. She checks behind her: no one.

Demi takes in one more breath, one last taste of Volturi air, and then she pulls the door open. She only opens it a couple of feet, only enough for her to squeeze through, making sure to shut it as quickly and quietly as possible once she's on the other side.

It's hot outside, and dark. It reminds her of the night she was brought to the castle. She had felt bad for the policemen, for their thick uniforms in the heat of the summer. But she doesn't have time to reminisce, or contemplate the significance of her accomplishment. She needs to put as much space between herself and this castle as possible.

Demi remembers her guide book mentioned a bus station in Volterra, at the edge. To find it, she'll need to make her to the town center, which has a large map of the city posted against a wall.

Demi barely feels the pain as she walks barefoot over the stone streets. How can she focus on that, when she has this golden opportunity at escape?

The town square is empty when she finally finds it, but the lights stringing around the square offer her enough light to read the map easily. Aware of the fact that this is where she was the first time Marcus saw her, she's careful to spend no more than a minute memorizing the map.

Luck really is on her side tonight, as the bus station is only three blocks from where the center of the city, and it's in the opposite direction of the castle. She sticks to lighted streets, and actually passes two separate couples as she walks there. She turns curls her good shoulder inward, and tries to make herself as small as possible when she passes them. Both couples look to be coming back from a night of drinking, so neither pays her any attention, which is good. The last thing she needs now is time-wasting questions about her appearance.

When she comes upon the bus station, a large, red-brick building, she heads first for the small gift-shop right inside the doors. The bus station is only slightly more populated than the Volterra streets. Disregarding the four or five employees she sees, there's only a handful or so other people milling around.

The clerk behind the counter of the gift shop perks up when Demi enters, then stares curiously at her clothing. She ignores him. The clothing section of the store is limited, but she does find a pair of sweatpants and a sweater that bears a post-card picture of Volterra. Demi can see the castle rising tall above the rest of the city. She swallows back bile and buys the items. The cashier's eyes widen when Demi pulls out a 100-euro banknote to pay for the 4o euro total.

Demi carries her clothes in a plastic bag, and crosses the space of the station to go to the ticket counter next. The next bus is to Pisa, not as far as Demi would like to get, but a good start, and even better, it leaves exactly at 2:00AM, twenty minutes from now. Demi receives the same treatment from the ticket lady as she did from the cashier in the gift shop, but she doesn't let it bother her. She taps her fingers impatiently on the granite of the counter as the tickets print.

Once she has them in her hand, she makes her way to the bathroom. She relives her bladder and strips out of her dress, gasping through the pain in her shoulder as she pulls the sweater over her head. The pain meds have helped a lot, but every time she moves her shoulder, the pain flares up. The sling is still in her bedroom at the castle.

When she exits the stall, she's met by her reflection. The first thing she notices is the bruise on her eye. It's still gruesome, but it's starting to yellow around the edges. Her new clothes, itchy as they are, at least, cover the rest of her, hiding the rest of the evidence of her abuse.

Above her, an announcement is made in fluent Italian, and the only word she understands is Pisa. The bus is here. She collects her things, putting her old dress in the plastic bag and stuffing in the trash. As she picks up her black book bag, the wedding ring on her finger catches her eye.

She stills, watching herself through the mirror as she fingers the band. It's a sudden and sickening reminder that Marcus will always be with her, no matter how far she runs. It angers her, how he invades her thoughts again so easily. Her face scrunches up as she twists the ring off, the gold glittering under the harsh bathroom lights. She marches back into the stall, drops the ring in the toilet, and flushes.

She's panting heavily as she exits the bathroom and marches towards the back of the small station, where a large bus waits. She hands the attendant her ticket, and she exhales when he lets her pass by him. She walks up the front stairs of the bus with shaky legs, not believing this is actually happening.

It looks like she's the last to board, although ninety percent of the seats are still open. The few waiting people she had seen in the lobby of the station are now sprawled out across the bus, each person leaving rows between them and the next. Demi sits on the right side, near the middle of the bus.

There's a clock in the front. 1:55 AM. Five more minutes. Those minutes drag by, and she's on edge, waiting for the sudden appearance of red eyes and black cloaks. But as the 1:59 changes to 2:00, and the bus driver closes the doors, no one comes for her.

She closes her eyes as the bus moves forward, and does not open them again until the shadow of Volterra's outer wall falls behind her.

* * *

It's still dark outside when the bus makes it final stop in Pisa. The bus made an hour and a half ride closer to two hours, and the loss of time scares Demi. Thirty minutes could be the difference between her permanent escape and her capture.

But even so, when Demi steps off the bus, there is a smile on her face. There's still so much she has to do to be safe, but getting to Pisa is a giant step forward. And while it might have been longer than she planned for, the bus ride did give her time to think of a plan.

She needs to find the Cullens. The Cullens are the only coven powerful enough to challenge the Volturi, and they have done it successfully once before. If Demi is going to have a chance at staying away from Marcus, she's going to need their help. And thanks to the map in Charles' desk, she knows exactly where they are: Hudson, Quebec, Canada.

From Pisa, she needs to go to Florence, and then take an international flight. She's not sure what airport is closest to Hudson, Quebec, but hopefully it's large enough to have direct international flights landing there. When she lands in Canada, she'll need to take a taxi to Hudson, and somehow find the Cullens' address from there.

But first, find a train to Florence. Luckily for her, the major bus station is located right next to the train station. Unluckily, she finds out when she makes her way to the ticket counter, the next train to Florence is not for another hour. She buys the ticket anyway, and then makes her way to the row of gift shops to find better clothing, hopefully some that doesn't say VOLTERRA bold across her chest.

Ten minutes later, she emerges from the bathroom stall in a pair of stretchy jeans and a long-sleeved grey shirt with a small map of Italy on a breast pocket.

The best thing about traveling by trains in Europe is the limited security. All she is asked for is her ticket, and then Demi is allowed through to wait at the platforms. It takes her a little bit of time to find her specific platform, but she still arrives with twenty minutes to spare.

As she stands at the platform her train will arrive at, more and more passengers show up. She likes the crowd, because she thinks it gives her more cover from any vampires. She's wrong, and it's not another five minutes before it's proven to her.

She doesn't see him. It wouldn't have mattered if she saw him first, he would have had her no matter what. But she is surprised when a hand touches her elbow. She doesn't panic immediately, as she slowly turns her head to look to her right, because the hand isn't cold. The eyes that meet hers aren't red either. It takes Demi three quick blinks before she's able to recognize the man next to her.

Demetri has a warm smile on his face. It's not condescending nor a smirk. It looks like the smile he gave to Claire, the night of Demi's wedding. It surprises her, and for a moment, she doesn't connect his smiling face with the realization that any hope she has is now gone.

"There you are, honey. This is the wrong platform." Demetri gently pulls Demi back, away from the platform, giving the businessman that had been standing next to her a polite, if not exasperated, smile. The man gives back his own knowing smile, as if asking, 'wives, what are you going to do?'

Demi's throat feels dry and raw. She doesn't make a sound as Demetri leads her, with one hand on her elbow, away from the platform, away from the train, away from her escape. Something cold grips her stomach and squeezes, but she does nothing to fight him.

Demetri lets go of her elbow, only to immediately hold her hand. He threads his fingers through hers, interlocking them. Demi recoils slightly and looks at him. His eyes are forward, as he seamlessly navigates them through the traffic of the busy station. He's not smiling exactly, but his face is relaxed, friendly. She imagines that to others sitting down and people watching, the two of them might make an attractive couple. She wonders if anyone sees her bruised eye and his commanding lead of her and thinks, just maybe, that Demi is not by his side willingly. If anyone does think this, no one stops them.

Before Demi knows it, Demetri has led her to a covered garage connected to the station. There are less people now, in fact, as Demi turns her head frantically in every direction, searching for one last glimpse of the outside world, she cannot see any humans. Demetri's fingers squeeze her hand warningly, and Demi snaps her head forward and matches her pace to Demetri's quickening one.

Unlike inside the station, it does not take Demi longer than a millisecond to recognize the figure leaning against a luxurious, darkly tinted car at the end of one of the rows. Demi stops walking. Mikhail is still wearing his cloak, and his red eyes stare at Demi intently as the pair makes their way toward him.

Demetri tugs on her hand, pulling her forward reluctantly. She trips slightly, and looks around desperately. She still can't see anyone else. Maybe she should scream. Someone would have to hear it. And this parking garage probably has security cameras. If she puts up a fight, someone will see it. Someone will know that she's been taken.

But she doesn't fight. Maybe it's because she knows, and she knew from the second Demetri grasped her arm, that there will be no escaping them this time. Marcus has experienced losing her once, and most likely told his guardsmen that they were to do anything and everything necessary to get Demi back. Demi does not doubt, that if she were to scream, and if anyone were to hear her, that whoever came running to help would end up dead.

So she allows Demetri to guide her to the car, and she says nothing as Mikhail opens the back seat door. Demetri lets go of her hand as she slides in. Mikhail closes the door firmly, immediately opening the door to the driver's seat. Demi loses sight of Demetri momentarily, as he walks around the back to open the other back seat door. He sits next to her, and Mikhail starts the engine.

On autopilot, Demi pulls her seatbelt on. Her mind is blank.

Demetri leans over, grabbing Demi's bag and rifling through the contents. He pulls out the cash and does a quick count, as well as looks over her passport. He pulls out her bottle of pills and looks at her.

"Do you need these?" He asks, his voice gentle. She shakes her head. He tucks everything back inside the bag and places it on the floor in front of him. Demi looks at it, bitterly thinking how _of course_ the key to her freedom (at least in terms of finance and travel needs) is at the feet of a vampire.

The silence in the car is scaring her. Even though it had only been a few hours, being out around humans again had reminded Demi how loud they are. And, in contrast, how quiet vampires are. Demi's eyes are still on the bag when she speaks for the first time.

"I didn't plan it." She looks up in time to see the small glance Mikhail gives her through the rear-view mirror. Demetri turns his head towards her, his face indifferent. She doesn't know why she's talking. It doesn't matter, she knows, to them. They aren't the ones who are mad at her. They aren't the ones she should be explaining herself to. "I didn't think."

"I know." Demetri's words aren't mocking. They are surprisingly tender. Soft. Demi studies his expression, which is still unreadable. His open acknowledgement encourages her.

"I couldn't not try, though." The words come pouring out. "After everything he's done to me. And no one was around and before I knew it I was at the door and I couldn't just stay there."

"I understand." Demi bows her head at Demetri's words.

"He's taken everything from me." Demi's voice breaks. There is silence in the car for a few moments. It allows Demi to realize that they're already on the autoban. That much closer to her prison.

"He cares about you," Demetri finally responds.

Demi recoils, staring agape at Demetri. _Is he kidding?_

"He doesn't give a shit about me," she snaps at him. "All he wants is this face and this body. He doesn't care that it's _my_ face and _my_ body. He takes it from me and he gives it to _her_ at my expense."

Demetri stares at her, his strange eyes exploring her face. Suddenly, Demetri tugs up his right sleeve, revealing his pale forearm.

"You can't see it, but right here—" He grabs Demi's wrist and places her hand right above his elbow. Demi flinches at the contact, but he keeps his pressure consistent. "Is a fresh scar. A bite." Instinctively, Demi's fingers explore the area. He's right; she can't see any imperfections, but, strangely, there is a part of his skin which seems slightly raised and, somehow, even colder than the rest of him.

"Yesterday night, the Masters called in the entire Guard to the Great Hall. We were punished for our disrespect towards you, Mistress, at the wedding." This time, when Demi attempts to pull her hand away, Demetri allows her.

"Everyone was punished, except for Mikhail, who was the first to call you by your correct title. Five minutes under Jane's eye, and then Master Marcus marked us."

Demi flinches at his name. At the 'Master' before it. That's what he is: her master. Demetri drops his arm, allowing his cloak to fall around him, but he keeps his eyes on Demi.

"Bites never heal. They are the only way to mar a vampire permanently, without dismemberment. Other vampires can see them. To some, it's a sign that this vampire has been in fights. Dangerous, deadly fights, and won."

Demi peers at his face, but she can't see any scars on him. She wonders if he has many others. Demetri seems like a main figure in the Guard. He must have fought vampires before.

"In the Volturi, bites like mine, clean and unearned in a battle, are a badge of shame. The Masters hand them out personally, when major transgressions have occurred. Like what happened at your wedding."

Demi glances at Mikhail in the front seat, but his eyes are firmly on the road, even though she's certain he knows she's watching him. She wonders what he thinks of the punishment he managed to avoid.

"To you, that still means little. To us, it shows how serious Master Marcus, as well as his brothers, are about your place by his side."

"Because I look like her," Demi says firmly, petulantly.

Demetri pauses, inclining his head to acknowledge her words. "Perhaps. I do not deny that was what originally drew him to you. But you are much more to him than a familiar face. You are his purpose, his motivation for living again."

Demi doesn't respond. She doesn't know how to convince Demetri that Marcus does not care about her if all the current evidence she has is not enough for him. Demetri gives her time to answer, but continues when she has nothing to say.

"That's where we were, in the Great Hall, when you presumably woke up and went down to the kitchens. Master Marcus was reaffirming your place beside him, even as you left the castle. When we were finally dismissed, Santiago and Afton stayed with the Coven, and Corin went back up to guard you."

Again, Demetri pauses in his story. Demi can feel his apprehension. "I was not there when he was told the news, but I heard his screams." Demetri is still looking at Demi, but she can tell he isn't seeing her. His mind is on his thoughts, on the memory. "I am mated, so I understand the terror one can feel for their love, when they fear they have been taken from them."

 _Mated. Love_. Demetri says these words like that's what she is to Marcus. But she's not. Whatever Demetri says, she knows Marcus doesn't truly care about her; that he only cares about himself, about the twisted story he's built in his head. _Right?_

"We were lucky," Demetri continues. "Mikhail and I, because we left almost immediately after to track you. When we got our mission, Marcus was already tearing apart his third criminal."

Demi flinches at the image. She can see it so clearly; Marcus, in his black robes, angry and violent, gripping the head of a vampire and tearing it off of his shoulders in one twist. The knots in her stomach grow tighter.

"Any concern he has is selfish." Demi is firm in this. She will not let Demetri change her mind or weaken her position. She will not feel bad for Marcus.

"All concern is selfish. We only ever care when a person means something to us," Demetri counters calmly.

Demi defiantly turns her head away, her gaze sweeping down at the bag at Demetri's feet as she looks out her window. Nothing looks familiar to her. She has no idea how much further they have, or how long they've driven so far. What she does note is the sun's rising position in the sky. Demi doesn't know the time, and she's lost count over how many hours she has left as a human.

It's the last thought that breaks her. So far, she's been able to distract herself, focusing first on Demetri, and then Mikhail, and then Marcus' reaction to her escape. She hasn't had time to really digest what is happening right now. She's on her way back to Volterra, where she will most likely never get another chance at leaving. She's going back to Marcus, who will no doubt exact his revenge on her with a painful lesson. And soon, she'll be a vampire. She'll be tied to him for eternity.

She starts to cry, silently at first. It doesn't matter if she's silent, for Demetri and Mikhail can smell the tears anyway, but silent crying gives her the facade of secrecy. If the tears streak down her face quietly, she can pretend, if she tries hard enough, that they don't know. But soon enough, she starts to sniffle. And then she can't breathe, and she's gasping in huge breaths of air. Then the sobbing hits full force, and her entire body shakes in anguish.

"I don't want to go back!" She manages to say before she becomes incoherent. She doesn't turn her face to look at Demetri or Mikhail, and neither man says anything to her.

Her head rests against the cold window glass, and she sees her puffy red reflection as she watches the beautiful Italian landscape whiz by her. Green gives way to more green, and hills grow into mountains, which stop at the edge of great lakes, and Demi has no idea how much time has passed. Only that with every second, she gets closer to Marcus.

The rest of the ride passes like this. Over time, Demi's tears dry up and silence fills the car. When the walled city of Volterra arrives on the horizon, Demi closes her eyes and rest her forehead on the glass. She can't watch it come closer to her.

She doesn't open them again until the car slows dramatically and a shadow passes over her. Her small peak confirms her fears: they have just passed through the city's wall. She's firmly in Volturi territory now.

Mikhail maneuvers the car through the tight streets with precision. The streets are relatively quiet, despite the nice weather. Demi wonders what day of the week it is. She can't remember if it had been printed on any of her tickets. Once again, she eyes the bag in front of Demetri.

Demi is surprised when Mikhail stops the car in what looks to be a block of warehouses. But she understands quickly when he presses a button on the car's visor and a garage door slides back a few feet down. Mikhail drives the car into the space and parks it. Demi takes a breath as his hands grip the key in the ignition. The air leaves her as he slides the key out. The car turns off and the silence pounds in Demi's ears.

Demetri is the first one to exit the car, followed closely by Mikhail. The sound of the doors closing reminds Demi of jail cells clanging shut. In an instant, Demetri is at her door, opening it and offering her a hand. She stares forward, refusing to move.

"Mistress," Demetri chides gently. It's enough for her. She knows how pointless it is now to act defiant. She lets out a huff, pretending she's more annoyed than terrified, as she places her hand into Demetri's gloved one. He helps her out of the car and firmly closes the door shut. Demi notices that Mikhail now holds her black bag.

But he is also holding something else, and he passes a different black mass over to Demetri. Startled, Demi realizes that it's a cloak. A pure black, Volturi cloak. Demetri unfolds it and holds it open towards Demi. She puts her arms through without challenge, studying the fabric.

"Whose…" When Demetri's stare meets her, she knows. Her heart drops and flutters in her stomach. It makes sense too, since the cloth almost completely devours her in blackness, just like Marcus has. As Demetri rolls up her sleeves so they don't hang pathetically down to her knees, Demi turns her head into her shoulder and takes in a deep breath. It smells like him.

Demetri levels a look at her. "Keep your head down. Move quickly and quietly." He grasps her wrist, squeezing it just enough to make sure he has her attention. "Any trouble you attempt to cause will most certainly result in the death of any witnesses." His eyes linger on hers, waiting for the look of understanding, and then he pulls her forward.

The trio exit the garage—which houses at least four other luxury cars that Demi can see—through a small side door. Despite the sun being high and clear in the sky, the path they take through the city is completely in shadows. As Demi walks between Demetri and Mikhail, she looks up at the buildings that form the alleys. Somehow, the Brothers must have made sure that the city around them was built to give them cover from the sun. She marvels at the architecture, instead of counting the steps toward Marcus.

Demetri moves fast and Mikhail is close behind her, forcing her to keep pace with his partner. She stumbles often, tripping on the cobblestone and the dragging cloak, but Mikhail always rights her and urges her forward. Demi is not sure how long they walk or where they are, and although she can hear the tourists and citizens talking and moving about, she never sees another soul.

Eventually, though, the group reaches a dead-end and Demetri stops. Demi looks around, wondering how it was possible for Demetri to take a wrong turn. But then he bends down and pushes the covering of a sewer hole aside. Demi peers over Demetri's shoulder and takes a step back when she can't see anything except blackness.

"Isn't there another way?" She asks breathlessly, thinking about the tall gates that loom over the front courtyard.

Demetri addresses her. "I will go first. Mikhail will lower you down and I will catch you." Demi looks at him warily. "Trust me, Mistress."

Demetri turns from her and steps forward, immediately falling into the drain. Demi hears no landing, but seconds later, Demetri's voice floats up. "Come down."

Behind her, Mikhail steps closer. Demi looks up at the sky again, to catch just one last glance of the sun. Mikhail's hand on her shoulder forces her to sit down, her legs dangling into the hole. Mikhail grabs both of her wrists, lifting them above her head and pulling her from her position. He bends over, lowering her. Without warning, a hand grabs her ankle, Mikhail lets go, and she's falling.

The distance is short but she still lets out a shrill yelp just as Demetri's hands wrap around her body, placing her on her feet before she even realizes she's stopped falling.

She hears the clang of the covering being forced back into position as Mikhail jumps down. And then Demi is completely blind in the darkness. Not even the vampires' eyes are vibrant enough to be seen. Demi clutches the air, making contact with things, but she can't determine what she's bumping into.

Someone nudges her forward and Demi stumbles to the ground. Her hands explore the rough stone beneath her, desperate to identify anything in the blackness. In a series of quick events that leave her dizzy, she's ripped from the floor, perched on top of one of their shoulders, and then they're off, wind blowing around Demi.

She wants to demand to be lifted off the shoulder, but she's petrified that her eyes have not adjusted in the slightest, so she clings to the person's back with all of her might.

It's only after she feels herself carried up stairs that light reaches her eyes. She sees the marble ground just a few feet below her, and the drag of the cloak trailing behind her captor. She thinks it's Mikhail who has her slung across his shoulder, because of the light-grey coloring of the cloth.

They're still moving quickly, but not as fast as before. She uses his back as leverage to lift her head.

"I can walk," she says firmly. There is no response and Mikhail makes no move to let her down.

Anxiety rattles Demi. She's in the castle now. She has seconds, maybe minutes if she's lucky, before she sees Marcus again. Before her punishment, whatever it may be, falls upon her. She wants to walk; actually, she wants to not be here at all, but she knows that's not a realistic option, so she wants to walk. She wants the semblance of autonomy.

She struggles in the hold, twisting and turning her head, trying to see anything beyond the stone floors and Mikhail's back. She has no idea where she is or where they are going.

She stills suddenly when she hears a door (multiple doors?) opening. When dozens of cloaks appear in her periphery vision, she starts blinking away tears that are already forming. The vampires make a path for Mikhail, circling around his back and closing in on Demi. She recognizes the shiny, white marble of the Great Hall, which she has not been back in since her wedding, just as she is lowered off of Mikhail's shoulders.

She lands on her knees and winces, but keeps her eyes down. There's a strange weight in the air, almost like silence, although Demi can hear activity around her. She doesn't want to look up. She knows what— _who_ —is waiting for her.

Someone moves past her, their cloak gliding across the floor. Their footsteps are silent as they walk forward. Demi holds her breath.

"Thank you, Demetri," Aro says kindly. "You were marvelous, as always."

Demi somehow forgot, in the few hours she had been outside of these walls, how slimy Aro's voice is.

"Look up, my dear," he commands, his voice still light. Demi shivers, but does not dawdle. She lifts her head.

The first thing she sees is _him_ , sitting stone-faced and distant, to the left of Aro. He looks sullen, angry, but resigned, as his dark burgundy eyes examine her face with as much attention as she gives him. He's not wearing his cloak, but is dressed in all black.

The next thing Demi notices are the three human girls along the left wall, and the giant that stands beside their quivering bodies. And then her eyes fall to her right, and she chokes.

Her parents. How had she not heard them before? How were they not the first thing she noticed? Her parents, Deborah and Tom Harris, are kneeling just feet from her, hands tied behind their backs, thick cloth gags stuffed in their mouths, and their bodies strained toward Demi.

She climbs to her feet, only to be immediately jerked back down to her knees by a cold hand on her shoulder. "Mom! Dad!" They both attempt to move towards her, wiggling on their knees, mumbling behind their gags, but there are vampires behind them, two fourth tiers, who keep them still.

Demi's eyes snap back to Marcus'; _j'accuse_! But he is still impassive, and does not even quirk an eyebrow at her challenge. Her eyes slide to Aro. He smiles sweetly at her. Behind him, she can see Sulpicia and Dora, lounging on an ottoman near the back of the dais.

"We're going to play a game, my dear." She swallows and her eyes flit between Aro and her parents, who still look surprised to see her alive.

"A game?" She parrots, her voice thick as she talks over a large lump in her throat. She already knows this will not be good.

"The first one please, Felix." There's a yelp and Demi turns to look at Felix, who now grasps one girl's arm. Demi glances behind her, noticing just how many vampires there are in the Great Hall. The entire Guard is there. She looks back at her parents, their eyes focused on their daughter and the advancing duo. Do they know what's about to come?

The girl who Felix drags forward looks like Sandrine, which means she looks like Demi. Her clothes are tattered and dirty, and she shakes with the certainty of someone who has already experienced abuse. Demi wonders if she knows what's going to happen to her.

Does Demi even know what's going to happen? It's like the moment she sees Felix step forward, is the moment she remembers everything she had forgotten earlier: Sandrine, the threat of more whipping girls, the threat of her parents.

Demi looks back to Aro. _Why is it Aro, and not Marcus, who is spearheading this punishment?_

A loud clatter in front of her draws her eyes to the floor, and she is startled to find a thin dagger sitting innocently between her and her parents.

"The game is simple, Demi." She does not lift her eyes up to look at Aro; her eyes stay focused on the weapon lying in front of her, examining the clear steel and sharp point. "You, dear, hold all the power. You will decide when the game ends, how it ends, and who the winners will be." She looks up. "To win the game, one must be alive by the time you end it."

It is strange, Demi marvels, to listen to Aro talk so softly over her parents' cries.

"What's the game?" Demi finally asks. Caius smirks and leans forward in his throne. Marcus has yet to move.

"Felix will rape these beautiful young ladies." Aro gestures to the trembling girl in Felix's grasp. Despite the gag in her mouth, Demi swears she can hear her mother's gasp. She flinches, but not out of surprise; she expected this. "He will do so until one is dead, and continue on to the next girl, or until you pick up the knife and kill one of your parents."

Demi's breath catches in her throat, and she lets out a strained yelp. _What_?

From the moment Demi saw her parents, bound and gagged in front of the Volturi Brothers, she had considered a multitude of possible outcomes, including their death. But she had never thought that Aro would be so cruel to demand she kill them herself. Not only is it cruel, it is impossible. Demi could never kill her own parents, and Aro knows that. _So why even suggest it_ …

 _Shit. The game._ Yes, Aro is cruel, but he is also so much more than that. Aro knows exactly how to manipulate her so that she now has to confront her worst possible fear. She could end the game now, before it even begun, but to do so would mean killing her parents, and not doing so means condemning yet another girl to being violated and murdered.

Demi stares blankly at Aro. His smile is gone, replaced by vague triumph. She has to close and then re-open her mouth several times before she can finally find her voice. "Please," she whispers.

Instead of answering, he lifts one of his hands from where is grips the knob of his armrest, and then makes a signal to Felix that can mean only one thing: Proceed.

As Felix starts stripping the girl, Demi switches tactics. She looks to Marcus, only to find him staring at something behind her.

"Marcus, I'm sorry," she pleads. "I'm sorry I ran. I promise I won't ever try it again. Please, Marcus." No response. And Felix is roughly shoving the girl to her knees now. Demi can feel her parents' horror pressing against her skin. "Marcus! Look at me! Look at me!"

But he doesn't look at her. Not even a glance. "Demetri," Aro commands.

A second later, cold hands wrap around Demi's chin and turn her head to face the main event. Her lips pucker with the pressure.

Felix has shed his cloak, and he presses her face against his crotch. "Kiss it," Felix demands. Demi swallows back vomit. She tries to glance to her right, to look at her mother, but she can't see her. All Demi can think about is how horrible her mother must feel.

With a vicious shove, Felix is on top of the girl on the ground, her naked breasts pressed against his chest. The girl's screeching is too much like Sandrine's. She can't watch this, not again. When Felix begins lining his hips up, she closes her eyes.

"STOP! Please!" It's the girl's pleading the breaks Demi's will to not cry.

"Open your eyes," Demetri orders harshly. Demi shakes her head. She hears no verbal reprimand, but for a second, Demetri lets go of her chin to grab her arm. He jerks her up, so that she's no longer resting on her heels. She hears the sound of his hand hitting her ass before she feels the pain, and then it's another few seconds before she connects the two.

 _Did he just...?_

 _WHAM!_ He does it again and Demi lets out a yelp. Her ass is still sore from Marcus' punishment.

"Open your eyes," he commands again.

Demi obeys. She chokes back a sob of humiliation and focuses her attention on Felix and the girl. At this point, her vision is so blurred by the tears, she can barely make out what is happening. Still, she can hear it.

Felix has entered the girl. The constant slap of hard rock hitting soft flesh echoes in the room. Felix is no less noisy this time than he was with Sandrine, and this girl, who's name Demi does not even know, is no less quiet than Sandrine. Demetri's hand is back around Demi's chin, making sure she keeps her eyes trained on what the Masters want her to focus on.

Demi wonders if her parents are watching. Have they looked away yet? Are the vampires behind them forcing them to watch like Demetri is forcing her? Are they looking at her; are they watching their daughter as she is forced to watch the rape she is responsible for causing? Are they thinking about which one of them their daughter will pick to die first?

While the sounds of the attack are similar, Demi begins to realize that this girl's rape is not as violent as Sandrine's. Oh, it's just as vicious, just as brutal, and it makes it no easier to watch, but Sandrine's was fast, like Felix was testing how much damage he inflict in the least amount of time. But not only is Felix taking more time with this girl, he is controlling himself better, governing his strength. He is undoubtedly hurting her, but she has already lasted longer than Sandrine.

And so the attack continues for what feels like years to Demi, but in reality could not be longer than fifteen minutes. Demi can tell when the end is near, as Felix begins to pick up his pace, his hips pounding the girl into the ground. The horrid sound of bones breaking under his weight echoes in Demi's ears. Or maybe that is from Sandrine's rape; Demi can no longer tell what is the present. Finally, Felix lets out a loud growl and the pinned girl beneath him suddenly slumps and relaxes.

Demi can hear the cries of her parents, muffled and terrified, in the following silence. She wonders what the response is from the Guard, watching silently behind her. Are none of them horrified? Do any of the females care, or is what Felix is doing okay, as long as the victims are human?

Demi wants to look away when Felix pulls out of the dead girl's body and stands, but she doesn't, even when Demetri lets go of Demi's chin. The past and present mix together in her mind. Are the screams she's hearing her own, or Sandrine's, or the dead girl's? Or maybe they are the pleas of the two still living girls, lined against the wall and forced to watch just like her. Whosever screams they are, she can barely hear Aro over them.

"Do you wish to end the game, my sister?" He asks. Demi doesn't answer, she doesn't look at him, she doesn't look at her parents. She looks at the girl, and in her head, she sees Sandrine's mutilated body lying lifelessly next to her.

Aro takes her silence as an answer. "The next girl, then."

 _The next._ Demi glances over to the girls again, and Felix grabs one of them off the wall. The girl is an animal, screeching and kicking with admirable fight. If her captors were human, it might have been enough to help her escape. As Felix drags her toward the body of his previous victim, the girl locks eyes on her.

"Please! Stop this! You can stop this. You can save me. Please! Don't let him do this to me."

Felix responds by shoving the girl to her knees and crushing her face against his groin. The girl's words rip through Demi, and she turns her attention back to the thrones.

"Please Marcus," she pleads, but he still will not look at her. _Why won't he look at me?_ She's desperate to end the game, but she can't kill her parents. There's no way she'll ever be able to do it. "Marcus, please!" She racks her brain for a way to get this to stop. "Please, Master. My Lord, I promise I have learned my lesson!"

Still, it is not Marcus who answers her.

"The way to end the game, is by picking up the dagger," Aro reminds her, his tone making it clear he is tiresome of her dramatics. She glances down at where it lies, within easy reach. All she has to do is grab it, and Felix will stop. But it's not that simple, not when it also means that one of her parents has to die. It is too horrible to contemplate.

"Demetri." Demetri guides Demi's gaze back to Felix, but not before she catches one last look of her parents. Her mother's eyes flash from Demi to the knife, her message clear: save the girl, kill me. But she can't do it, so she returns her attention to the awfulness.

Perhaps Felix thinks he needs to up the ante, or perhaps he really is just a sadistic bastard, but Felix changes things for this girl. He drags her on the knees by a chunk of her hair, until the pair is just a few feet from Demi. He nods once to Demetri, and Demi feels his cold hands push her shoulders down until she is lying against the marble floor on her stomach.

"Please!" The girl begs once more, her eyes on Demi, as Felix shoves her into the same position as Demi. From this angle, she can see the Brothers' figures looming behind Felix. The girl's face is now only a foot away from Demi's. As Felix gets into position behind her, he addresses Demi directly for the first time.

"Keep your eyes on her, Mistress," he orders, the last word clipped and forced. "Watch her. Watch her be punished for your crimes. Watch her the entire time I'm in her, knowing you could stop it all, but that you won't. Watch the woman you condemned die in front of you."

And although it is the hardest thing Demi has ever done in her life, she does. The entire time Felix brutalizes the girl, Demi does not take her eyes off of her. She does not allow her vision to blur, or for her eyes to focus on something off of Felix's left shoulder. She deserves to feel this guilt; Felix is correct, Demi can stop this, but she will not. And if Demi will not help the girl, the least she can do is take responsibility for her death, to carry the guilt with her forever.

Demi tries to reach out and grab the girl's hand, to offer her kindness and support in whatever way she can, but the girl pulls her hand away from her, and Demi cannot blame her. Still, Demi stares into her eyes as the life leaves then, and even after, when Felix stands up and the girl's eyes remain open in abject terror.

From above her, Aro's voice. "Does the game continue?"

 _God help me_. "Yes," Demi responds, her face still pressed against the marble floor. She can hear the sound of her parents' protests.

God, what is wrong with her? Her parents are practically begging her to kill them. They are willing to offer themselves up as sacrifices, in order to save the last girl from going through this. But, as Demi sees it, this is the last girl. _One more girl, and then the game is over._ Is it horrible? Yes, but as Demi is already going to hell….

Aro laughs at Demi's response. "You are making Felix a very happy man." Demi's jaw clenches. "I fear I may have underestimated you, my dear."

Demi doesn't respond. Demetri pulls her back onto her knees, just as Felix throws the next girl onto the ground. Felix wastes little time with this girl, not even bothering to strip her fully. He tears at her jeans and enters her within three seconds. This time, he holds nothing back.

The girl's scream is unlike any other one heard so far. Her following cries are worse than even Sandrine's. Her body spasms in unnatural, broken ways. Her legs stop bucking after only the fourth thrust, and Demi is sure Felix has paralyzed her. Felix ducks his head down and lowers his mouth to the girl's breast, still covered by the thin material of her shirt.

Demi can't stop herself, she has to look away when she sees his lips pull back and his teeth reflecting in the light's glare. No one reprimands her break in concentration, and her eyes meet her parents.

Neither of them is looking at the rape either. They are focused on their daughter. Once she sees the look of pure terror on their faces, her sobs begin in earnest. Her father darts his eyes between the blade and her, begging in the only way that he can that she end this.

Doesn't he understand? It's almost over now. She shakes her head softly. "I can't," Demi gasps out. As if he had not noticed before then, Demetri steps forward to turn Demi's head and eyes back on Felix and the girl.

Demi gasps again, because the girl is clearly dead; her head rolls strangely side to side, blood stains the girl's shirt over her left breast, and her eyes stare vacantly and unseeing off in the distance. But Felix is still very much continuing his actions.

Demi is unsure how long Felix continues on with her, but it is much longer than the previous two encounters. "That's enough with this one," Aro eventually calls down.

Immediately, Felix stops his thrusting and pulls out of the girl's body. Demi meets Aro's look. He does not ask. She shakes her head once.

"Demetri." At his Master's command, Demetri lets go of her Demi's head. She turns to watch as the Guard parts down the middle, giving him room to leave the Great Hall.

She wonders where he's going. The game is over now.

"Tell me, dear, was it worth it?" Aro grabs Demi's attention again, and she looks back to him. Her eyes slide over Marcus as she does so, and her heart beats at how painfully beautiful he is. His hands are gripping the armrests tightly, and she can tell he is still angry. She can tell, from the tension in his posture, and the ways his red eyes stare into her soul, he wants to hurt her.

"I didn't plan to," Demi says softly, as if this defense will save her from their wrath.

Aro looks grim as he studies her. "Oh, we know. Still, there are always consequences. Was being outside, one last time, worth it?" He asks again.

Demi glances at Marcus, and then sweeps her eyes across the marble floor. Three naked women, their bodies twisted, lie out before her like a macabre gift. Their brown hair and brown eyes similar to her own. Their bodies stolen from them because of the actions of another girl. Is that not what happened to Demi as well? She looks at her parents too, still bound and gagged, still terrified. Here in Volterra because of their love for her, here in the Castle because she didn't think about their safety.

Demi never answers Aro. Of course it had not been worth it. Of course Demi wishes she could go back in time and stop herself. Demi had promised Sandrine, promised herself, that she would never again allow her pride to be the cause of someone else's death. She promised penance for her role in Sandrine's death, and her penance had been living as Marcus' wife. Did it really only take a few days for her to forget her promises?

Within minutes of leaving, Demetri is suddenly back, bringing with him a new girl and loud cries. Startled, Demi realizes that the screams this time are not coming from the girl in his hold, but from behind her. At the front of the crowd, being held back by Chelsea is an older woman. A human.

"Good, good, you found her," Aro says warmly. "Silence the mother." Chelsea covers the mother's mouth with her hand.

Demi turns to Demetri, her stomach rolling when she sees the newest girl, standing doe-eyed and petrified in the field of bodies. And where the others were clearly in their early twenties like Demi, this girl is much younger. So young, in fact, Demi guesses she only just reached the age appropriate for puberty.

Demetri passes her off to Felix, who maneuvers the girl until she stands in front of him, her back against his naked front. He settles both hands on her shoulders and his fingers rest against the top of her chest.

She looks at Aro. "You wouldn't…she's just a child!" No more than fourteen. Beside him, Caius' lips twitch, as if he finds her faith in them funny.

"The dagger," is Aro's only reply. He looks back to Felix and Demi follows.

 _There's no way Felix will actually…she's too young. Whatever the Volturi are, whatever Felix has already done, he cannot actually find the girl arousing. He can't._

But Demi's assurance crumbles as she watches Felix's fingers caress the girl's small breasts through her shirt. The young girl, who appears to be a servant here, judging by her uniform, is shaking like a leaf, but she doesn't say anything to stop him. She's petrified, humiliated, shocked.

Behind her, Demi can hear the muffled rage of the girl's mother.

"You may begin, Felix."

Demi watches just long enough to see Felix tug the young child's shirt out of her skirt.

"No." Demi lunges forward, and before she thinks consciously about it, she's gripping the handle of the blade. Felix stops his movements, but keeps the girl clutched to his side.

Aro looks on expectantly. "You have one minute before Felix continues."

 _One minute_ , the time limit echoes in Demi's mind. One minute to decide which parent she will kill. Swallowing her fear, she looks toward her parents, not surprised to see the relief there. They want this ordeal over with. Both of them are more than willing to sacrifice their life for the child's. Looking at them hurts her, because she can tell they are disappointed in her. They are horrified that it took her this long, took her until this extreme, to end the game. If it had been completely up to them, she knows Felix would not have even finished stripping the first girl before one of them killed themselves.

Demi stands briefly, approaches her parents, and drops to her knees again. She tries to block out the audience they have. The dagger feels heavy in her hands, and lays it flat against her thighs.

"I love you both," she says to them, her words slurred by her grief. Her dad moves forward, as much as the hands that restrain him allow, so that his shoulder covers his wife's. It's a sacrifice, an offering of him. Demi studies the pair of them. All she can think about is what is going to happen to the one that survives, the one they don't demand she kill. Most likely, one of the Brothers will kill whichever one she doesn't. But she's worried about what they might do before then. She's worried about what they might do to her mother.

"Fifteen seconds." Aro informs her. Demi brings in a large gulp of air, and her hand shakes.

"I don't know where to…" Demi can't finish the sentence.

"Lawrence, instruct your Mistress on where to find the heart." The vampire holding her dad reaches down and presses against his chest, indicating where to aim.

The dagger feels heavy in her hand, but she can no longer delay. Her mind is made up. She looks her father in the eye.

"I'm sorry," she whispers to him. He his head encouragingly and closes his eyes.

Demi sucks in a breath of air and shoves the blade into her mother's chest, cradling her body as she slumps forward. Her father's eyes snap open, and he looks down, shocked, dismayed. Demi feels bad for tricking them, for faking out both of them, but she knows that if her dad thought she would kill her mom, he would not have allowed it. And she didn't have time to rationalize with either of them. She needs to know her mother will not have to face her biggest fear anymore. She needed to make sure Felix would not touch her.

Demi cradles her mother's head in her thighs, and gently removes the gag from her mother's mouth; she should not die with it silencing her. Her mother's eyes already look glassy, as blood flows out of the wound freely.

From above her, Aro speaks again. "Let the girl go."

Demi does not spare a glance at the young girl as she scampers across the floor to her mother. The pair leaves, the girl unharmed, yet Demi's hands remain red with blood anyway.

She's not looking at him when she hears him stand. "Leave us," Marcus commands simply, his voice filling the entire hall. Like an addict who gets a delayed hit of their favorite drug, Demi's body starts to shake. She doesn't look up though. She can't take her eyes off of her mother's chest, and the large knife protruding out of it.

 _Blood_. _Blood everywhere_.

Her hand still clutches the handle of the dagger, and the other one strokes at her mother's hair. Her fingers get caught in the tangles. The blood is sticking the strands together.

Behind her, the Guard is leaving. To her right, the bodies of the three girls are still decaying. In front of her, on the other side of her mother's body, her father falls forward, pressing his warm body against his wife's cooling one. The vampires that had held her parents are retreating, exiting with the rest of the Guard. Beyond the scene of tragedy, Marcus is making his way down the stairs.

Despite the sound of her father's wails, Demi can hear every footstep as he comes closer to her. His pace is in tune with her heartbeat. Or maybe her heart is in tune with him. She's unsure, and she can't focus enough to figure out which is true. But his steps are the soundtrack to her horror, and she knows, as he walks across the marble floor, that this is not the end.

When his hand grabs her by the back of her neck, she grips tightly on to the handle of the blade. It's a mistake, because it makes a horrible tearing sound as it slips out of her mother's chest. The sound of the metal clattering on the floor masks Demi's small gasp. Marcus drags Demi by the neck, pulling her back several feet. Her father lifts his head, his gag still on, his hands still bound, to watch with tear-blurred eyes.

"I made a mistake," Marcus says calmly, conversationally, as he slips his black robe off of her. He tosses it to the side, and it floats elegantly to the ground, landing next to the body of the first girl. "In treating you too kindly, in allowing you too much grace." Demi is only barely hearing Marcus over the roaring in her ears.

"I told you on our wedding night it was my right to fuck you in the middle of the Great Hall. I should have made you my proper wife then, but I intend to fix my error now."

Marcus forces Demi on to her stomach with the strong touch of his hand against her shoulders. Pressed against the floor like this, she remembers too clearly the pleading of the second girl. She had begged for Demi to end this as Felix pushed her to the ground.

Demi lets out a whimper as his hands reach under her and pop the button of her jeans. She tries to focus on something else as he pulls her zipper down. So she looks at the pool of blood her mother is lying in, and she looks at her father who clutches her body tightly. She tries not to think about why her father has a sudden look of rage and disgust on his face. She tries not to connect his expression to the hands pulling the jeans down her legs.

Without thinking about it, the words spill forth from her mouth. "I won't survive this," she whispers into the ground. He pauses, his hands around her knees.

"I will not be as violent as Felix," he says. He knows that's not what she means. Demi knows he would never harm her beyond repair, beyond what a vampire's bite could heal.

"I'm not her," she says. It was a mistake, and she knew it the moment she said it, but she had hoped, although she had known this was not the case, that he had mistaken her for Didyme again. Marcus does not respond right away, and she can feel his body shift over her. There is only time for a second of fear, as he places his hand against her bad shoulder, before he exerts enough pressure on it for Demi to hear the pop of bones breaking and flesh tearing.

Demi lets out a sob of anguish, and the tears roll down her face easily. It has not escaped her notice that she had not cried when she killed her mother. She wonders if it was astonishment that had kept her that calm. But the pain Marcus delivers to her is enough to break the stillness of shock.

"I know who you are," Marcus says softly, his voice no louder than it was before. Demi's father jerks forward, and she can see how his shoulders are strained, trying to break the ties that bind his hands.

Demi presses her forward against the marble and sobs louder. Marcus finishes pulling the jeans off of her. He does not bother with the same formality for her underwear; he rips the seams along the sides and throws the cotton off to the side.

"Please, Marcus!" Demi begs once again. Both of her hands curl into fists and she wishes she had something to clutch on to. Her shoulder burns with pain, worse than when it was dislocated.

Marcus' response is to lift her head up by her neck, and hold his other hand in front of her mouth, "Spit." He commands. Demi recoils. Sobs rock her body. "It is the only lubricant you're getting. Spit."

The thought of him entering her at all terrifies her, but she knows at this point that it is going to happen. She recognizes he is trying to give her a chance to make this even slightly easier on herself. With a hitched breath, Demi pools saliva in her mouth and allows it to fall onto his hand. Since she's sobbing, there is a lot of it, and it shimmers over his pale skin.

Marcus drops her neck, and Demi allows her forehead to crash against the floor. It leaves her dizzy, and it's the perfect amount of pain to distract her for a few moments.

His gag muffles the cry, but Demi recognizes her name when her father speaks it. Slowly, she lifts her head enough to look at him. In that instant, she regrets not killing him. Aro had said she only needed to kill one of her parents, and it had been hard to stab her mother, but how unfair of her, to force her father to watch as she is brutalized in front of him.

She tries to offer him a smile. Marcus' hand makes contact her with her inner thigh and she whimpers.

"Close your eyes," she tells him. Her father mumbles something around the gag; she thinks it might be a plea for her to fight. She frowns at him. Doesn't he understand that there's no point, not anymore? If he hasn't guessed yet that they are vampires, he at least has to know that they're not human. It's useless to fight them, to fight him.

And even if she could match him physically, Demi has suddenly lost her passion for defying him. And the reason for that is strung across the room, displayed with the bodies of four women, and in Demi's mind, Sandrine's body lies among them. Five deaths at Demi's hand. Five deaths because Demi could not submit to Marcus.

"Close your eyes," she tells him again, and then she rests her head on the stone floor and follows her own advice.

Marcus penetrates her with his fingers first. It has been almost an entire year since Demi's had sex, and even his fingers, that spread ice inside of her, make her feel full. Her legs keep trying to close, but he's between them, one hand splayed out possessively over her left thigh to keep her open.

Demi's saliva makes his passage easier, as he pumps two, and then three, fingers inside of her. When she feels the stirrings of her arousal in the pit of her stomach, she starts to kick. Maybe _all_ of her fight isn't gone yet.

"Please," she begs him, and she hates to hear that desire has made her voice turn husky. She is not enjoying this, she does not want this, but he's turning her body against her mind. Once again, he's claiming her body for himself, dominating her with his will.

Marcus does not answer her, but he does slip his fingers out. Demi's eyes are still closed, her body trembling, her ears filled with the sound of her frantic heartbeat, when she feels the head of his penis against the folds of her entrance. He rubs himself against the spittle there, and Demi does not allow herself to consider the idea that the moisture there might be more than just her saliva. _I do not want this. This does not arouse me_. If she repeats this mantra enough, it will be true.

Marcus drops the weight of his body then, his chest pressing against her back, grinding her broken shoulder into the ground. His legs (still clothed in his pants) are between Demi's, keeping them wide open. His hands cover Demi's fisted ones, his thumb stroking her fingers. His mouth places a kiss along Demi's neck, and she can feel the wetness of her tears on the marble, pooling against her cheek.

She can't hear the others, not one of the Brothers nor the Wives have made a single noise since Marcus dismissed the Guard, but she knows they are still here, watching the scene from above. Her dad is still making noise, and once again she wishes she had killed him when she killed her mother. If only he would shut up. The last thing she needs right now is the sound of his cries, the reminder that he is watching her be raped.

One of Marcus' hands leaves hers, and she knows this is it. She feels his fingers brush against her as he guides his cock between her lips. She tries to roll him off of her, tries to jerk out of his reach, but his strength doesn't allow for it. So she lies helplessly as he thrusts into her.

They both cry out, Demi's dissolving into a whimper of pain, and Marcus' a moan of ecstasy. She remembers Aro's comment: _two thousand years is a long time not to partake in sex._

She wishes she could say her mind is blank. She wishes that she felt numb, that she experiences shock, and feels nothing of his attack. But she does not. She feels every thrust, she hears every grunt. Worse, she feels her body respond. Whatever supernatural connection draws her to him also makes her feel pleasure as she's violated. She buries her head into her good shoulder and bites down to stop herself from making noise.

Marcus is slow with her. His thrusts are meant for him to savor the feeling of her. Bitterly, she wonders if her pussy clenches around his the same way Didyme's did. She wonders if he fucked Didyme this way before, slowly and face down in the Great Hall.

"Fucking whore," Marcus growls between his teeth.

He nibbles on her ear lobe, and she pants into her flesh. "Shall I make you come, darling?" His voice rumbles against her. A jolt of pleasure connects the thin skin behind her ear to her groin. He grunts his approval when Demi's inner walls spasm. "Should I prove to you how much you enjoy it?"

Demi does not answer. She's terrified that if her teeth let go of her arm's skin, she'll beg him to go faster, to go harder. Now, she feels grateful that her mother died before she saw her like this. What would Deborah have thought of her daughter then, if she had seen Demi struggle with the pleasure of her rape?

 _Whore_. Marcus' word repeats in her mind. Is she a whore? Demi's not sure anymore.

In the end, Marcus does not make Demi come. He never really tried to begin with, which scares her more, thinking about how ready her body is for him. She can't guess at how long he was in her, it could have been anywhere from a few minutes to an hour.

Demi's only move, when Marcus finally pulls out of her, is to open her jaw and let go of her arm. A thin strand of spit connects her teeth to the bite mark in her skin, and she turns her head away, resting her cheek on the marble.

Marcus lifts his weight off of her, agitating her shoulder again, and stands at her feet. She imagines that during the following silence, he is surveying her naked ass.

"The initial pain of the bite will be so shocking, you will urinate on yourself," Marcus tells her with the same detached tone he's had all night. Demi bites her lip. "But it will not be until the venom reaches your heart that you will feel the burn."

He gives no warning; his hand grabs Demi by the arm and jerks her to her knees, spinning her so that she faces him. Her ass is presented to her father and the rest of the Coven. The movement causes his semen to slide down Demi's thigh, and her entire body shivers at the perverse feeling. Her mind flashes to Joham, to male vampires and female humans, to hybrid children. With her luck, Marcus has gotten her pregnant.

He places both of his hands on her shoulders, eliciting a cry from her lips when he presses against the broken bones. He ignores it, and his fingers trail along her exposed throat and collarbone.

"I have been trying to decide where to bite you, since the mark is permanent. Hers was on her wrist." He pauses for a moment, and then his eyes refocus, a dull anger right beneath the surface of them. "Earlier, you called me 'master', because you thought it might stop your punishment. It did not, but nonetheless, I am your master, and every slave should have a collar."

Demi's eyes furrow. She doesn't know what he means. One of his hands leaves her shoulder and grabs her chin, holding her head steady.

Her eyes lock with his as he bends toward her. She closes them when his cool lips touch hers. She keeps them closed as he pulls away. She doesn't dare open them when she feels his lips again, this time at her throat. She can still hear her father, protesting behind her, but she doesn't spare more than a second of thought on him. Marcus invades all of her senses. His hair tickles her face, and she inhales his scent. His touch spreads goosebumps down her body, even over her naked ass.

Her eyes snap open when his teeth sink into her. She tries to jerk away, but his hand around her chin keeps her still, making sure she can't make his precision falter. His grip along her jaw barely allows her to open her mouth, but the scream slips through her lips somehow. She's aware when he pulls away, and she's just as aware when he tilts her head a little to the side and bites down on the new flesh exposed.

She can't scream anymore. All that comes out are little sounds of protests, are small gasps for air, are guttural cries of pain. Cruelly, his grips keeps her upright on her knees, even when her muscles go slack and she hangs by the hand on her neck.

She thought she understood pain; while living with him, he had introduced her to many new types. But they all pale in comparison to the pain of his teeth, to the feeling of them scraping against her skin, slicing through her tissue, clamping down on her throat and injecting her with poison.

She does end up pissing herself, but she's unsure if it happens after the first bite or the second. She only becomes aware of the rapidly cooling feeling on her legs during the third attack.

Her hands wrap around his, and she clings to him, her fingernails breaking against his hard skin as she digs them against him.

He said it would take time for her to feel the burn, and in a way he is right. The fire starts on the fifth bite, which is on the right side of the back of her neck. By the sixth bite, which overlaps with the first, the burn encompasses her entire upper chest.

Once the burn starts, Demi is completely lost to it.

* * *

 **End Part One.**

* * *

 **Words: 13,413**

 **Author's Note: No Beta, forgive any mistakes. Thank you for reading. "By the end of July" and by the end of November are pretty much the same thing, right? In all seriousness, I apologize for the delay. Sophomore year of college is a killer. But good news is I have winter break coming up, so I hope to get a lot of writing done then. I promise not to entirely abandon this fic, but I've learned my lesson nt to give any more time frames for the next chapter. This is this end of Part One. I hope to post an outtake chapter soon, hopefully when I post Chapter One of Part Two. Please review, and I'll reward you by teasing you with any stuff I have.**

 **(Also, if you go back and check, I haven't been consistent with Demi's mother's name. I apologize for that, but I'm too lazy to go back and upload the correct version in the previous chapters, so you'll have to live with the disappointment.)**


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